


Runnin' Round Leaving Scars

by saucyminx



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, M/M, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-22
Updated: 2010-12-22
Packaged: 2017-10-28 07:20:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 35,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/305269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saucyminx/pseuds/saucyminx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John is taken by vampires and Dean goes to Stanford to enlist Sam’s help. Sam’s past feelings for his brother come up and complicate things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_When they entered they found, hanging upon the wall, a splendid portrait of their  
Master as they had last seen him, in all the wonder of his exquisite youth and beauty.  
Lying on the floor was a dead man, in evening dress, with a knife in his heart. He was  
withered, wrinkled, and loathsome of visage. It was not till they had examined the  
rings that they recognized who it was._

Something loud crashed just outside the motel room and Dean looked up from the book; it was bad timing, considering the end of _The Picture of Dorian Gray_ happened to be a little more on the creepy side than he’d anticipated. It sounded like someone was throwing trash cans around, or something else equally ridiculous and Dean would have ignored it. Usually. When his dad wasn’t currently M.I.A.

Though in all truth a disappearance by John Winchester was about as common as the sunrise. Just, Dean had been on his own for the past few months so when he’d gotten a call from his father for help on a hunt he’d been anticipating actually _helping_ him. Not waiting around the motel room while he went off to check with sources that were too private to be shared. Dean didn’t question him on it though; twenty three years living under the man’s thumb taught him the ways of the world.

With a resigned sigh Dean climbed off the bed and slipped the reading glasses off the bridge of his nose, tucking both the book and the thin wire frames into his duffel bag. His dad didn’t know he had glasses. Come to think of it, his dad probably didn’t even know he had books. There was a lot his family didn’t know about him, but that was okay. Dean was pretty sure there was plenty he didn’t know about his dad or his brother in return.

Once the items were safely stowed away Dean crossed the room and flipped the lock, not bothering with the peep hole - he’d watched enough horror movies to know better - and tugged the door open. He had a pocket knife within easy reach, just in case, and he stepped out into the seemingly deserted parking lot, looking around for some sign of the noise he’d just heard.

“Dad?” He called out uncertainly, head tilting to the side, ears hunter trained for the hint of movement. The Winchesters were looking into possible vampires; precaution was more than necessary.

“Dean.” John’s voice was weak and he fell forward the last few steps toward his son. One hand was clutched at the wounds on his neck, blood blossoming red and wet on his t-shirt.

“Dad.” Dean moved forward quickly, heart lurching in his chest as he took in all the blood that was staining his father’s clothing. Pushing through the shock, Dean hooked his arm under his dad’s and dragged him back into the motel room, kicking the door shut and laying him gently down on the floor, not wanting to move him too much. “What happened? How did you get away from them?” He wasn’t stupid enough to not know what these wounds were; his dad had been bitten and judging from how pale his skin was, he’d already lost too much blood.

John’s eyes were unfocused, lashes closing then opening quickly as he fought for consciousness. “It went bad, Dean...” His words were swallowed up by a fit of coughing that left him breathless and clutching at his son’s shoulder.

“What did? Dad, come on. You’re- it’s fine. You’re fine.” Clearly the man was anything but fine but there was no way Dean was letting his dad die, bleeding out on the carpet of some random motel in some hick town in the middle of Iowa. “I’ll just- bandages. We’ll wrap up the wound, stop it bleedin’, and get you to the hospital.” Dean pried his dad’s fingers off his arm long enough to crawl quickly across the floor for his duffel bag.

 _Jesus_ this couldn’t happen, not like this. His dad had to be in so much pain, and dying by blood loss was not the way John Winchester was going to leave this world. Dean would do everything he could to make sure of that. He was back at his father’s side in the next moment, pulling out a thick stack of white gauze patches. “Let me see. Come on Dad, we’ll get you fixed up, just hold on a few more minutes.”

"Fuck Dean, listen," John barked out. "I screwed up. Things went bad. They followed me." John coughed again; the sound was too wet and too thick. When the man managed to suck in air again he gripped his son's shirt weakly. "Tell Sammy m'sorry. Look out for him."

“Shut up. You’re not- just come on.” Dean pressed the gauze forward, trying to stop the worst of the blood still pulsing from the wound. He stared down at the clammy skin of his father’s face, damp with a light sweat, neck stained red with blood. “Followed you?” The words hit him hard and his eyes snapped to the door and back down. “Shit, we gotta get out of here. Just gonna get you to the car.”

John's eyes widened at the sound of footsteps outside then he winced and curled up slightly in pain. "Get out, Dean."

“Dad, I-”

Dean didn’t get to finish what he was going to say. Whoever - or whatever - the vampires were that had followed his dad were clearly eager for whatever it was they were looking for. There had to be four at least, maybe more. There was no way Dean could handle that many, he’d be killed before he even got the chance to fight. His eyes darted down to his father and the life seeping out from the wound in his neck.

Later, and for the rest of his life, Dean would always remember that moment. How it seemed like he was moving in slow motion, pushing up to his feet, stumbling across the room and grabbing the car keys and his already-packed duffel bag. He hadn’t been strong enough to look back at his dad as he ran to the bathroom and pushed the window open, throwing the bag out and heaving himself out after. When he hit the ground he could hear the echo of the door being kicked open and slammed against the wall.

Then it was a matter of sneaking around the building, praying the vampires didn’t know about him, weren’t coming after. Instinct was kicking in too much to do little more than what he had to. But the moment he slipped behind the wheel he could see into the motel room through the broken door. The vampires – it turned out there were six in total - were huddled over his father’s form on the ground.

If it would have worked, and not damaged his car in the process, Dean might have slipped the gears into drive and barreled right through the pack. Since it wouldn’t do much more than get him killed he resisted, cranking the ignition hard and slamming the gears into reverse, peeling out of the parking lot with a screech of tires. The only thing he could think, the tiny little straw he was grasping at, was the fact that he’d seen his dad’s leg move of its own accord and his father’s words that _they were different_.

In the end there was only one place he could really imagine going in a moment like this. He was too hyped up on everything to even imagine stopping, even if it meant he was going to show up at his brother’s dorm after one year of not seeing each other, wearing clothes stained with their father’s blood. It didn’t matter. He had to get to Sam.

There were three photographs pinned to Sam’s bulletin board above his desk. The first one was a family photo. John was kissing Mary’s cheek as she gazed down lovingly at the baby in her arms. A little freckle-faced boy was up on his tip toes trying to peer at the swaddled baby.

The second photo was of Sam, roughly eight years old, gazing up in awe at Dean’s face. Sam had no idea what his older brother had been telling him but he recognized the mischievous grin on Dean’s face. Whatever it was it, it had made eight year old Sam think that his twelve year old brother knew everything and was the king of the world.

The third photo always made Sam a little sad. It was a faded colour snapshot with cracks in the emulsion. In it, Dean was leaning against the front fender of the Impala. The thing that always gave Sam the tug of melancholy was the look on Dean’s face. Gazing out at something far off in the distance, his expression was so serious it nearly always made Sam sigh before he had to turn away.

When he’d moved into the dorms the first thing he’d done had been to pin up his photos. _The history of Sam._ The history of Samuel Winchester, nineteen years old, summarized in three photos. He had a family, he loved his brother and now they were all on different paths.

Growing up, Sam had always thought he would be a hunter, just like his brother and father. Things change though. Maybe he’d seen Dean hurt too many times, overheard his older brother’s nightmares one too many times. It could have been the anger that slowly crept into his father’s voice. It was probably realizing his father could die, his brother might never come home.

One day Sam woke up and realized he couldn’t watch things fall apart anymore. He didn’t want any more photos of the ever-increasing distance between him and Dean. It had hurt enough to stand in front of Dean and tell him that he was going to school; Sam could only imagine what it would have been like if he had stayed any longer.

Some feelings you don’t allow to grow.

That was how Sam ended up at Stanford in a tiny dorm room, seven text books on his bottom bookshelf, papers all over his desk, and managing a headache. Studying was a hell of a lot harder than hunting. Of course, there was less risk of sudden death and there was no Dean; for some gains you gave things up.

Shifting on his hard wooden chair Sam rubbed at his eyes. First year’s classes seemed like a load of crap but it was something he knew he had to get through. If he could just focus and stop his mind from wandering back to better days everything would go much quicker.

Some nights it was hard not to think of all the long, hot summer nights he spent with his brother. There was a very real possibility that Sam was living a little in the past, mourning the loss of something that he’d never really had. There were a lot of possibilities though; if Sam had learned anything from hunting, it was that possibilities were everywhere. Sam had just chosen to walk away from some of those possibilities.

Sighing, Sam leaned his chair on its back legs and stared up at the ceiling. For the briefest moment he heard the low rumble of a car engine and had the familiar sensation of wondering if it was his brother’s car. It hadn’t once been Dean’s car a single time in the year he’d been away.

Dropping the chair back down onto the floor, Sam snatched up his pen and tried to focus on Geology. _Geology_. Because every pre-law student needed to be able to identify the stratification of rock.

Sam was still flipping randomly through page upon page of rocks when there was a quiet knock at his door. It was probably Brady; no-one else would be up as late as Sam and Brady usually managed to get himself into some sort of tangle and would be missing notes from something. Smiling at the possibility of a potential break, Sam stood up and stretched, then padded over to the door to pull it open. "Brady. How did I know it would be-"

It wasn't Brady. It was the last person that Sam had expected to see outside his door and certainly not in the condition he was in. There was dried blood all over Dean's shirt, his neck, and there were signs that it had been on his face at one point in time. "Dean? _Fuck-_ " His brother was leaning against the door-frame looking like he was nearly ready to collapse. Pale and drawn, Dean's eyes had a look of shock that Sam had never seen in them before. Hesitating only a moment, Sam reached out and grabbed Dean's wrist, pulling him into the room so he could close the door.

Dean had never been more relieved to see his brother before in his life. “Sam,” he said quietly and stumbled forward a little, tempted to head straight for the bed. He was still a mess though so he resisted the urge. Turning back to his brother, his lips twitched into a slight smile. “You grew. How the hell does that even happen? You’re gonna be too tall to enter rooms if you’re not careful.” He reached out to clap his brother on the shoulder, stopping when he saw the dried blood on his hand.

Sam's eyes moved from the blood on Dean's hand back to his face. "Dean? What's happened? _Jesus_... you. You're covered in blood." _And_ he looked like he was nearly ready to collapse. Frowning, Sam pushed Dean back until he had no choice but to sink down onto the edge of the bed. "Talk to me."

For the last twenty plus hours Dean had turned over idea after idea about how to explain this to Sam. There wasn’t much of an option but to lay it out there. “Sam.” Dean sighed slowly and scrubbed his palm against his thigh. “It’s dad.”

There was that cold and familiar trickle of fear, the one that had been hovering in Sam’s mind for years. “Dean? _What_ happened?” Sam reached out and rested his palm over his brother’s hand.

The image was burned in Dean’s brain, he couldn’t escape it, and he closed his eyes so he wouldn’t have to see the look on Sam’s face when he told him. “We were in Carroll, Iowa. Actually, dad was. He called me in. I was in-” Dean sighed and shook his head. “Anyway. There were reports of bodies turning up drained of blood; dad thought there might be a pack of vampires around and he needed a hand. So I went, but he just- He was supposed to be checking up on some sources. He just-”

Dean found his eyes opening of their own accord now and he met Sam’s gaze. “There was so much blood, Sam. I don’t know how he got away from them, but they were following him. He said that they were different, that they wanted something. I just- I couldn’t save him. There were too many. But he’s still alive, I know it.” Dean reached out to grab his brother’s hand, eyes widening just slightly. “I saw him move, Sam. He’s still alive, they want something from him.”

Sam sat there blinking for a while and stared up into his brother's pained face. _Dad._ Sinking down hard onto his heels, Sam blew out a breath and tried not to focus on the throbbing fear growing inside of him. "Dean? I- God, vampires. I don't understand. They took him?" Sure, Sam's experience was a tenth of his brother's but vampires usually just killed and got on with things. They didn't drag things out, they didn't _want_ things from people like John Winchester.

“Sure seemed like it. Dad said they wanted something. He said they were different. I mean, think about it Sam, why would they follow him? He was ten steps from dead, they could have just let it go but they still came after him.” Dean frowned slightly, rubbing along his neck. “Could I, is there somewhere I can wash up? If any of your friends see me they’re gonna call the cops.”

Mouth open, Sam simply stared up at his brother. _Jesus Christ._ "Wash up?" Sam blinked and pushed back up to his feet. "Yeah. _Shit_. Yeah. Are you okay? I mean are you hurt?" Sam moved over to grab a towel and clean clothes for Dean.

“No. Just, been up a few days. Haven’t stopped driving.” Dean shrugged and slowly looked around the small dorm room. It was oddly Sam, with books and papers, some pictures on the board he couldn’t quite see from this far away. “Look Sam, I’m sorry for turning up here. I know you don’t- well. I guess I should clean up before we talk huh?” He smiled apologetically at his brother. The last thing he wanted was to disturb his brother’s peaceful life.

“You’ve gotta be kiddin’ me. You can come to me whenever you need somethin’, okay?” Sam handed his brother the clothes and gestured at the door behind him. “My bathroom is just like a small closet with water but... yeah. You hungry? Thirsty?” Sam ran a hand through his hair. _Dad._

“Water or coffee. That’d be good. Thanks.” Dean nodded and set the bundle of clothes to the side so he could slip out of his jacket and boots. “What time is it anyway?” It felt odd to have no real concept of time, only knowing that it was dark outside. He scrunched up his face as he pulled up his shirt, glancing around before launching it at the trashcan.

“Almost three in the morning? I was studyin- Dean? You can get Dad back, right? I mean, he’ll be fine.” Sam was trying to convince himself, moreso than his brother.

“I don’t know Sam. But I’m gonna try.” Dean sighed softly and shucked off his jeans, thankful that he wasn’t so attached to that pair; throwing them out wouldn’t be such a travesty. When he looked up, his brother was still staring at him and he scratched uncertainly at his chest. “I’ll do what I can Sam. I promise. Stay up for me okay?”

He moved quickly into the back room. Turned out Sam was right, it was basically a closet with water, barely enough room for the tiny sink, toilet and shower. Dean felt like a sardine but the water was warm and soothing and exhaustion was catching up with him quickly. He needed to get clean and go back to Sam, tell him all he could before he curled up on the floor and passed out.

It took real effort to slip into clothes in the bathroom but his brother had grown enough that his sweats were too big on Dean so it made them more comfortable. He stared at himself in the mirror and noted the pale skin, deep bags under his eyes, and lines along his face that maybe weren’t there before. For a moment Dean wondered how different he looked to his brother after only a year, before he stepped back out into the main dorm room.

Sam wasn’t there - he’d probably gone off to get something to drink - so Dean slowly walked to the desk, looking at the pictures on the wall. His chest felt tight at the sight of his father, picturing him all too clearly on the motel floor bleeding to death, surrounded by vampires. Turning away from the board Dean took one of the two pillows from the bed and grabbed his coat, sinking down in the gap between the wall and the bed. The floor wasn’t the most comfortable thing ever but it sure felt better than crammed behind the steering wheel.

In the next beat the door opened once more and Dean listened to Sam call his name, too tired to open his eyes again. “M’down here, Sam. Just gotta sleep a couple hours then we’ll figure this out.”

Blinking in the dark, Sam moved through the room and set Dean’s coffee down on the desk. “Get on the bed, Dean.” His brother was always doing weird things like that. Driving until he looked like death warmed over, then thinking that Sam was so spoiled he would expect the guy to sleep on the floor. “You’re exhausted.” Reached down, he held out his hand to help haul his brother up.

It surprised Dean a little at how easily Sam lifted him up off the ground. “It’s your bed,” Dean pointed out, lips twitching into a slight smile. “You got school tomorrow? What day is it?” That was probably something he should know but oh well, circumstances and all.

“Friday, well, technically Saturday, now. No school. Just shut up and sleep for a while.” Shoving over to the side of the bed Sam sat there for a few moments watching his brother, then reached over to pull the blanket up over him. Sam had a feeling he wasn’t going to get much sleep. What he really wanted was to pepper his brother with questions and find out exactly what had happened to their father but he knew that Dean desperately needed rest.

Maybe Sam and John had never been as close as they should have been; Sam knew that. But he’d certainly never wanted anything bad to happen to his Dad and this - well - it had to have been brutal for Dean to look as drained as he did, or as shocked. There had been an almost _flat_ tone in Dean’s voice, as though he’d disconnected from his emotions somehow. Reaching out, Sam brushed his brother’s damp hair back off his forehead and hoped that after a few hours of sleep he and Dean could talk, maybe come up with a plan.

Dean had thought he’d fall into bed and pass out, lose himself to oblivion almost instantly, but sleep wouldn’t come. It was weird to hear Sam’s quiet breath in the room after a year without it, but it was still familiar. “Sam?” Dean asked quietly, turning slightly to look over at him. “Where are you going to sleep?” It didn’t really matter in the moment but it was something to say and any sort of distraction was welcomed. .

“Floor, chair, wherever. I’m good,” Sam answered softly. He shifted on the edge of the bed, somehow feeling like he didn’t want to be too far away. Pulling his text book closer he picked up his pen. “Want a sip of your coffee?”

“Not exactly sleep inducing.” Dean shifted again on the bed, scooting to the far edge and staring at the space next to him. “Gonna be studying long?”

“Am I bothering you? I can go out to the lounge.” Sam shifted so he could see his brother. He didn’t _want_ to leave Dean’s side but he would if it meant the man would get some sleep.

Sighing quietly, Dean pushed up until he was sitting, reaching out to grab Sam’s arm. “Yesterday I held our dad as he nearly bled to death; for a few minutes could you pretend we’re six and ten and lay here with me?” He watched the slight surprise on Sam’s face, likely because this wasn’t ever something he would normally say. But he needed something to ease the ache in his chest.

Sam's expression softened as he studied his brother's face. "Yeah Dean, 'course I can." He shoved his book back all the way onto the desk and turned to lie down. Smacking the other pillow around he laid on his side and grinned at Dean. "You used to always get me in trouble when we shared a bed when we were kids. You'd say stuff that would make me laugh and Dad would yell. You remember?"

“Yeah.” Dean chuckled softly, hooking his arm under head so he would be eye level with his brother. “Remember when we played army men under the blankets and you woke up with one practically glued to your stomach? Took forever to get it off.” He shifted to pull the blanket up, tugging it over Sam until it covered them in darkness. “Or how I always used to tell you that we’d always be safe under the covers.”

Laughing softly Sam shifted down and got comfortable. “Only if _all_ of me was under the covers. Tell me the truth, was that just to keep me in bed?”

“You would have made me go through the closet and under the bed every half hour otherwise.” Dean trailed off in a laugh, reaching out until he could touch Sam’s arm. “Come with me Sam. Help me get Dad back.”

It was one of those questions Sam knew might come one day. He'd waited for it and wondered what his answer would be. Dad was in trouble; fair enough, that was a family thing. The problem was Sam's finals were just around the corner. He'd invested months into studying hard, working toward completing a first year of college that would put him in good standing for scholarships. But Dean's face, even in the dim light coming through Sam's dorm room window, was something that Sam had never counted on. There was a _need_ there that Sam had never seen before and sick as it might seem, Sam liked it. Dean _needed_ him for something. "Okay Dean. If you need me, I'll come with you."

Dean released the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “I do Sam. I need you.” He wanted Sam to come with him, couldn’t even imagine trying to go in and fight all those vampires on his own. “Then that’s it; I’ll bring you back here, I promise. I’ll leave you alone again. Thank you.” The last of the tension slid off of Dean’s shoulders and he smiled softly at Sam through the dim light.

Unless they were back by Monday Sam didn't think coming back would matter much at all. That was alright. Sam decided that, perhaps, it was time for him to be there for his brother. _A time for everything._ “Can you get some sleep now?”

“Yeah.” Dean nodded and shifted on the bed once more, curving his body until his forehead hit Sam’s. “Shh,” he breathed, chuckling softly. “Don’t laugh, you’ll wake everyone up.”

Shaking his head, Sam smiled. Just like when they were eight and twelve. Only that was a thousand years ago.

Sam sighed and closed his eyes. They would find their Dad. He was sure of it.

Dean was sitting along the edge of the bed, had been for at least an hour, when Sam finally stirred awake. Obviously, his younger brother was much more accustomed to the noisy dorm room and the thin walls. He heard the faint grumble of his brother and half turned, looking down at him. “You happy here, Sam?” The real problem with too many hours on your own was the ability to get lost in thoughts that weren’t always easy to handle.

“What?” Sam rolled over quickly rubbing at his eyes. “Happy? What?” _Dean_. Middle of the night. _Dad._ He’d slept too well; having Dean there was like taking a double dose of sleeping pills. Scrubbing at his face Sam blinked a few times.

Shifting along the bed, Dean lifted his shoulders in a shrug. “Whenever we’ve spoken, through emails, or on the phone, you say things are going good. Classes are good. You’ve got some friends. But you never said if you were happy here. I was just curious if you were.” He hoped Sam was. No matter how much Dean missed his brother, he wanted him to be happy.

“God Dean, can’t I have coffee before I have to answer questions like that?” Sam smiled weakly and pushed his hair out of his eyes. Another look at his brother’s face and the previous night’s news came crashing back down heavy on Sam’s shoulders. “We gotta find Dad.”

“Yeah.” Dean nodded and let the conversation drop. He wouldn’t push Sam but if he couldn’t answer right away there was a reason for it. “We should hit the road as soon as you’re ready. Guess I should go out and get my shit to change.” He stood, moving around the bed to slip into his boots. “Is there somewhere I can pick up coffee? Oh well, guess I should dress first.” He was muttering now just to preoccupy himself, chasing away the image of their broken father from his mind.

“In the lounge,” Sam muttered. “I’ll get some for us while you get your stuff.” He slid to the edge of the bed and yanked his t-shirt off. Sam hated sleeping in his clothes, as it always reminded him of all the too-long trips in the car when he’d fallen asleep in the back seat, only to wake up with his cheek sweaty and stuck to the leather.

“Listen, Dean. We’re gonna find Dad.” Sam was worried. He’d never seen Dean looking the way he did. Some of it might have been exhaustion but he surely wasn’t acting like himself.

“I know,” Dean nodded, rubbing his hands along the sweats he was wearing. Sure they’d find him but who knew exactly _what_ they would find along with him. “I’ll be back in a few, I’m right out front.” He palmed his keys and headed for the door, stepping out into the hall.

Unlike the night before, the hallway was buzzing with people. A lot of the doors were opened, people moving in between the rooms as if private space and college weren’t a related thing. With how cramped everything was, Dean wasn’t surprised. He wondered if a lot of these people knew Sam, considered him their friend. Of course none of them really knew him, and Dean wondered what kind of person they thought Sam was.

Someone a couple doors down saw Dean as he closed the door and whistled in the distinct version of a catcall. Dean’s brows lifted curiously for a variety of reasons, including why their minds would automatically go to a bad place when a _guy_ was leaving Sam’s room. Ignoring it, Dean ducked his head down and pushed through to the front door, jogging over to his car and pulling his bag along the backseat so he could dig in for jeans and a clean t-shirt. He grabbed the map and his glasses as well, hoping to find a different path that was shorter for the drive back.

When he made it back into the room he could hear the shower running so he changed quickly and spread the map out onto the bed, slipping on his glasses and peering down at the map. He’d taken highways to Sam so he wouldn’t have to look up directions but back roads would likely be faster. By the time the shower was off and the door was opening Dean thought that he had at least an hour cut off the drive.

“We should do it all in one go, so we’ll trade off driving okay?” he said without looking up, finger tracing a thin blue line on the map.

Tucking the towel in around his hips Sam came out of the bathroom. “Be ready in a min-” He laughed softly. “You’re wearing glasses. You have glasses.” Stepping closer Sam lifted a hand and ran his finger down the metal arm. “I like it.”

“Yeah?” Dean had forgotten about them, having long since adjusted to wearing them in certain times, but he was relieved that Sam didn’t mock him over them. “Realized part of the reason I hated reading in school was because I couldn’t _see_ right. So, glasses.” He smiled up at his brother, glancing at his chest for a moment before looking away.

“Bet it works for picking up women, too.” Sam dropped his gaze and moved over to his closet to pull out some clean clothes. He tugged a t-shirt down over his head and dropped his towel to tug on boxers and jeans.

“I only wear them when I need to read something.” Dean shrugged and pulled his glasses off, laying them on top of the map. He’d never even thought of using them to get girls. Shaking his head, Dean pushed up to his feet, turning to fold the map together. “You know, some kid in the hall gave me one hell of a funny look.”

“What?” Sam could feel a bit of heat flaring along his cheeks. “You know guys,” he shrugged. Pulling a plaid shirt off a hanger Sam slipped it on and left it unbuttoned. “Okay, I packed my duffel while you were out. You just about ready? Found your coffee?”

“Nah, let’s get something on the way. Gotta get gas anyway.” It was another thing Dean wouldn’t push his brother about just yet. There was time for everything, he supposed. “Let’s get out of here.” He headed for the door, listening to his brother pull up his bag and follow him.

The hall was still crowded enough that Dean didn’t wait for Sam, just pushed his way through until he was stepping outside, lingering on the sidewalk. When Sam stepped outside Dean half smirked at him. “Dude you have to deal with that every day?”

“Dorm life, it’s a laugh-riot. Everyone is all up your business all the time. Seriously Dean, you’d hate it.” Swinging his duffel up onto his shoulder Sam followed his brother down the sidewalk.

“Probably.” Dean nodded and stopped at the car, unlocking it quickly and snagging Sam’s bag so he could toss it in back with his own. “Think we’ll stop in the town over, gas here is shit.” It was talking just to talk, Sam probably wasn’t fooled by it. “Let’s do this.”

Maybe Dean had spent too much time on his own, driving all these miles in silence, which was why he hadn’t realized several hours had passed without conversation. Sam coughed at his side and Dean started, looking over at him, fumbling for words. “I was just-, remember the first time Dad taught me to shoot? Remember that shot gun he had that sent me flyin’, what, five feet at least? I had a bruise on my ass the size of a football for weeks.” Dean’s lips quirked at the memory, glancing over at Sam.

Turning on the seat so he could see his brother, Sam smiled. "Yeah. You did almost the same thing to me." Sam's memories were split half and half between happy and not-so-happy. For Dean. things had seemed to be a little different.

The smile faded off Dean’s lips and he shrugged. “Guess it was a thing.” He shouldn’t have spoken like that, recalling memories like their dad was already gone. He couldn’t think like that. “Been a long year, huh?”

"Yeah, I guess. I was kinda buried in my school work and didn't really think about it." That was mostly the truth. There were also a lot of times when Sam had picked up his phone and stared at Dean's number for a long time before putting the phone away. “How’s it been for you? Hunting, I mean?”

Dean shrugged, not quite sure how to put it. “It’s been. Well, I’m living. You know, hunting. It is what it is.” The cop-out answer; all of them were pretty good at it. “So you got anyone? Girlfriend or otherwise?”

“Me? No. I mean, no one permanent.” The heat was back in Sam’s cheeks again. It wasn’t that he didn’t like talking about his life, it just felt strange to have to ask and answer questions like this with his own brother. “What about you?”

“Come on Sam, you know me.” Dean half chuckled at his brother and shrugged. “No one permanent.” He could ask a million other questions but he didn’t, just let his gaze settle back on the road. “I think I read over two hundred books in the past year.” He curled his fingers along the steering wheel and released, eyes fixed forward.

“You what?” Sam laughed and felt his eyes widen slightly. “You read? Two hundred books?”

“Shut up, asshole.” Dean reached out and punched Sam’s arm. “Of course I can read. It’s pretty easy to switch through them; I get a couple and trade them out at truck stops. You don’t even have to pay most of the time and they let you just trade out.” When he glanced back over Sam was staring at him and Dean huffed. “Come on, is it that unbelievable that I can actually read something?”

“Not unbelievable, no. It’s just that I don’t think I ever saw you with a book the entire time we were growing up. Porn mags, yeah. Not books.” Sam shook his head in disbelief and turned to stare out the windshield. “Guess things can change,” he muttered.

Dean thought that maybe he’d changed a lot over the past year, but then Sam probably had as well. “So that’s my thing, something you didn’t know. Now you go.” He smiled over at his brother, letting him know through a look that this was just a distraction.

Glancing over at Dean, Sam laughed. “What? Tell you something you didn’t know?” His brow furrowed. “Uh. I’ve been studying hard so I could get into Law school but-” Sam shrugged.

“But?” Dean frowned slightly, half glances to observe his brother’s features. “It’s not all you thought it might be?”

“Well, it’s a lot of work and I don’t know if it’s what I want to do. Guess I thought it would be more about helping people - and sure, there’s some of that but not a lot. It’s crazy stuff. Some people are all about money and just do the work to make as much as they can.” Sam blew out a breath. “Anyway. It’s not a big deal. Got me out from under your feet, right?”

“Don’t, Sam. Come on, you know that was never what I wanted. I thought we were on the same page, there.” Dean frowned slightly, looking over at Sam then back at the road. He didn’t want to discuss this, not if it was going to go down this path, but some things were unavoidable. “You know I would have supported whatever path you decided to go on.”

“Was just kidding,” Sam muttered. It sure felt good to hear Dean say that, though. Sam had missed Dean so much when he’d first left for school that he couldn’t even answer his brother’s phone calls. Sam figured that was the beginning of them losing touch the way they had. The more he avoided listening to Dean’s voice on his voicemail, the further apart they drifted. The less they spoke, the harder it became to pick up the phone in the first place. “You know, I’m sorry about not calling - and stuff. I’ve just been really bogged down with school work.”

Dean shrugged it off like it mattered a lot less than it did. “Figured you were. I thought it’d be different, you know, like I’d come by once a month or something.” Dean tried to laugh and trailed off, shaking his head. “You needed to have your own life though, I get it. Who wants to follow around in their big brother’s shadow forever?”

 _I did,_ Sam thought. He’d looked up to Dean his whole life, compared all his other relationships to the one he had with his brother. _Those_ were big shoes to fill. That was probably the reason that Sam was still single. “I missed you.”

“Yeah Sam. I missed you, too.” Dean nodded and wet his lips slowly. “Did you get my Christmas gift?” If they kept having this conversation Sam was probably going to think Dean wasn’t even the same brother he’d left behind. It was hard to say.

“God, yeah!” Sam grinned and turned back to face his brother again. “Peter Pan, first edition. You read that to me almost every night for a whole summer. Hey,” Sam’s expression softened. “Guess I _have_ seen you with a book.”

“See, you knew I could read.” Dean wanted to ask about every call he’d made, wanted to know if Sam had listened to them at all. “I called. You know, on Christmas. What did you do?”

“Truth? Not a thing. I got myself a microwave dinner from the store and a six pack of beer. I’m a cheap drunk and didn’t make it past ten that night. Was creepy being the only one in the dorms, I tell ya. Might have even salted the door and the windows but I wouldn’t admit it.” He laughed softly. “What about you?”

“But you didn’t answer,” Dean said before he could stop himself. He glanced over at Sam and frowned before shrugging. “Sat in the motel room. Read A Tale of Two Cities. Thought about you. I was hoping you were out doing something extravagant or something.” Dean hated the way they’d fallen out, but it wasn’t for his lack of trying.

Sam looked out the side window for a little while, watching the trees whipping past. “Dean, I -” Dragging his hand down his face Sam turned to look at his brother. “I probably passed out before I heard my phone.” Sighing he reached down and picked up a bottle of soda. “You want a drink or anything?”

“I’m fine,” Dean shrugged, meaning both in general and about the drink. He didn’t understand and he wasn’t used to being the one on the opposite side of things. Usually, before, he shut his mouth and let Sam pester him for whatever he wanted to know; it was weird to be on the other foot and he resisted asking more, falling into silence instead.

“And Dad? He’s... he was. I mean, you and he - things were okay?” Sam realized it was a stupid question the moment he asked it but he’d had no news of either Winchester for a year. He had known they were alive; Dean left enough messages.

“Until a few days ago I hadn’t seen him since shortly after you left. We went different ways.” Dean shrugged. Part of him felt like asking Sam if he really cared, or if he was asking because he felt guilty; after all, they were likely driving on a rescue mission of their father’s corpse. “Guess he thought it was best for me to finish growing up. Probably easier on his own anyway.”

“You’ve been by yourself all this time?” Sam’s voice wavered slightly.

“Yeah,” Dean nodded, fingers sliding along the back of his neck. “Knew I would be. No big deal.”

“M’sorry,” Sam looked down at his lap. “I didn’t know. I would have - called or something. We could have- Well, I would have called. Returned your call.” Great. Something else Sam could feel shitty about. It wasn’t enough that he’d fled his family - _his brother_ \- because he couldn’t be around him all the time but he hadn’t even been there for him when he’d been completely alone. Sam’s friends at school might have been acquaintances but at least he had some.

“No Sam, I don’t think you would have.” Dean smiled sadly over at him and sank back in his seat. “It’s okay. Maybe the year alone was a good thing for me. Maybe I needed to-” Dean pursed his lips slightly and shrugged. “Maybe I did need to grow up. Change. Be alone to know I could. It sucked sometimes but I got over it. You know, like we’re all supposed to.”

“Oh. Is that what’s supposed to happen? Winchester rule, I guess.” Sam shrugged and opened his soda and took a few gulps. “So. Instead of you and I doing _this_ why don’t you tell me what you know about these vamps. What exactly did Dad say?” If they continued on the road they were on with the conversation Sam was pretty sure he would say something he’d regret.

Dean sighed, lifting his shoulders in a shrug. “Just that they were different. That they were looking for something. When I first showed up he said it seemed like just a vampire pack, and that there were too many to handle on his own. All I can think is, when half a dozen vampires are feeding on you, you don’t just get away. They let him go, like they wanted to see where he would go. Like they wanted him free.” Dean blinked at the words and swallowed thickly. _Shit_. “I’m not sure what we’re going to see when we get there.”

Sam’s forehead wrinkled as he mulled over the facts. There weren’t all that many. “Did Dad leave you any idea where their nest was? Do you think they will have moved on?” The underlying question was, _Are we looking for our father or a body?_ Sam’s blood ran a little cold.

“I know where their nest is. We scoped it out a couple nights ago. So we’ll check there and hopefully they haven’t moved on.” They’d be fucked if the vampires had; Dean would spend years hunting them down, though. “I don’t want to say anything officially until we find out, no use wasting time thinking the worst if, you know.” He sighed and shrugged. “We’ll see.”

“We’ll see,” Sam echoed. He fiddled with his soda for a while then drained half of it. “I kept all your messages, you know. Well, I eventually had to delete some because my mailbox was full. But. Sometimes I would listen to your voice.” Sam kept his eyes straight ahead. He knew that Dean didn’t like to talk about things like that, at least, he never used to.

“You could have listened to my voice a hell of a lot more if you’d called me back,” Dean pointed out, eyes sliding toward Sam and back to the road. “How many did I leave?” He called Sam a lot in the beginning, slowly trickling down to less and less but still probably too much.

“A few.” Sam smiled. “I liked them, made me feel like you didn’t hate me.” Sam drained his soda and tossed the empty bottle in the back seat.

“Because I don’t hate you,” Dean said flatly and tightened his fingers around the steering wheel. “You don’t really think I do, right?” He couldn’t stand the idea of Sam thinking that.

“No,” Sam murmured. “It’s all in my head. You know I feel guilty for leaving so I probably put stuff on you that’s all about _me_.” Sam tapped his temple with a finger. “Psych class.” And Sam had a _lot_ of guilt about leaving. It felt a little like deserting from the army. Only there was _Dean_. Leaving Dean had been the only difficult part when it came right down to it.

“Ah. Psych class. Knew that learning stuff couldn’t be good,” Dean tried to tease. When Sam just sighed he reached out and squeezed his brother’s shoulder. “I never once hated you, Sam. Missed you like crazy sometimes, most of the time, but. You know, you never said if you were happy there.” He’d never had this kind of conversation with Sam, the simple style of it; Dean thought it was a good thing.

“No, I didn’t say.” Sam shifted a little on his seat again, nervous. “How far we gonna drive today? I’m kinda tired.” He let his gaze wander to the side again, thankful that they were driving down the back roads and there was actually something to look at.

“Sam...” Dean sighed softly and rolled his shoulders back. “Just get some sleep. I’m not stopping. We can switch places when you wake up.” When did Sam get to be the one that didn’t answer questions, anyway?

“Okay, just don’t drive all damn night and not wake me, okay? We need to be rested when we get there. Bein’ zombies won’t help.” Sam pulled his jacket tighter across his chest and slid down a little. “Never was enough room in this damn car,” he muttered.

“Not my fault you’re a giant,” Dean muttered in return and slowly shook his head. He’d drive all night if he wanted to - or, he wouldn’t because Sam was right; it would be all too easy to fall back into that life with his brother at his side.

Closing his eyes, Sam folded his arms across his chest. “Promise you’ll wake me, or we’ll stop for the night or something?”

“Yeah yeah, Sam, I’ll wake you up.” Dean shot him a look and laughed. “I _promise_. Okay?”

“Okay.” Sam smirked slightly and settled back.


	2. Chapter 2

Dean woke to the sound of the car door closing. He blinked his eyes open, looking around the motel parking lot. They were in Iowa, the same hotel he’d been in a couple of days ago. Even if it was daylight now, Dean still felt the oddity of it. He climbed out of the car and looked across the lot where Sam was disappearing into the main office. When he looked back down his eyes landed on a door covered with crime scene tape.

Pacing in front of the car slightly, Dean rubbed along his neck, shook out the tension from his muscles and finally exhaled in relief when Sam half jogged back to him. “Check it out.” He jerked his head toward the crime scene tape. “That’s the room alright.”

Sam stopped and looked down, not quite sure he could even imagine what it must have been like for Dean. “I. I got us a room around back. But there’s good news; the police didn’t find a body. I asked the clerk and he said there was just blood all over and Mr Alvarez was gone. If I’m right in assuming that was you, we should probably get you around back and in the room.”

“Yeah. Window’s easy to get open.” Dean nodded and chose to walk around the building while Sam headed for the car to move it closer to their room. He stared at the door for a long moment before sighing and pushing forward.

By the time he was around the back Sam was pulling the duffel bags free and Dean stepped forward to claim his. “They probably took anything Dad left in the room, might have to check out the police station. But, I’ve got Dad’s journal. So, maybe not.” He’d only had it because it’d been on top of his bag and maybe that was more than a coincidence, like their dad had known what was coming.

Sliding the key into the lock Sam tossed it to his brother out of habit. He hauled both bags in and threw one on each bed, Dean’s on the one by the door. “What’s the plan? I’m sure you’ve got one.”

“Break into the room, check it out just in case. Then we’ll go to their nest before the sun sets and see if they’re still there.” Dean crossed to his bag, tugging it open and digging through the contents. It was morefor something to do, to not think of some of the more troubling thoughts that had been eating at him. “Been awhile since you’ve done this - have you been keeping yourself in shape?” He was mostly teasing, trying to ease the tension in the room.

“Of course I have. Work out three times a week. Haven’t shot a gun in a year but don’t figure that’ll matter much on this case. You got stakes? Machetes?” The whole situation was starting to seem surreal to Sam, like some kind of bad dream from which he couldn’t wake up.

“Yeah. Trunk, like usual. Dad had some too, in his truck. Not sure where that is now.” Dean shrugged and stepped back from the bed, turning to Sam. “Alright, let’s go to the room and you can either come in or keep look-out.” He wouldn’t blame Sam for not wanting to see all the blood. Their father’s blood. _God_.

“Why don’t I go in? You sit outside. You’ve already... well-” Sam shrugged. Dean was the one who had to see it first-hand, had to watch all that blood he’d been covered in come out of his father’s body. “I can do it.”

“I don’t mind though,” Dean pointed out, but stopped himself from arguing further. He’d gone after Sam for help, not so he could play backup to Dean. “Okay, you go in,” Dean nodded, giving in so much easier than he once would have.

Blinking, Sam swallowed and then nodded. He hadn’t expected Dean to actually say yes. “Through the window? Show me.”

Dean led the way back outside, counting the windows down until he stopped at the right one. It hardly took any work to slide it open and he stopped, turning to Sam. “You sure? Because I really don’t mind going in.”

“I’m good.” Sam pulled out his knife and slid it under the lock, then pushed the window up. Lifting a leg up and slipping it in through the window he pulled the other up, then slid down inside the room. The scent of blood was still thick in the air. Sam had enough experience with bleeding to know what that meant. It was a lot of blood. He moved slowly through the room like he’d been taught - walking the grind. Left to right slowly, and one step at a time.

He didn’t see anything of interest and his eyes kept drifting back to the dark red stains on the carpet. He tried to imagine what it must have been like to see their father like that. Shaking his head, Sam kneeled down by the front door and tried to distinguish the tread patterns. There were at least five distinct sets, possibly one female but that was about all the information he was going to get from the room.

Moving quietly back through the bathroom Sam grabbed the top of the window frame and swung his legs back out again and hopped down. “Nothing new. At least five sets of prints in the - on the carpet, maybe one woman. But I’m guessing you knew that?”

“Yeah. There was only one girl from what I saw. So nothing else?” Dean couldn’t say he was too surprised; he figured the cops would have cleaned out the room. “Alright. The nest next, then.” He was dreading that more than anything else, not knowing what they would find there.

“I guess, yeah.” Sam shifted a little closer to Dean and lowered his voice. “Now?” If someone had told him a week ago that he would be ready to kill vampires he would never have believed them.

“Yeah. Now.” Dean nodded, wanting to just do it and get it over with.

They didn’t talk as Dean drove them through the town to the outskirts. It had been weird to check the weapons with Sam, like this was a normal part of their daily lives, like their dad wasn’t there, wherever the vampires were. Dean was pretty sure neither of them were really ready for what they might find at the abandoned warehouse the vampires had chosen as their nest.

Parking far enough away that the car wouldn’t be seen or heard, Dean and Sam silently climbed out and moved around to the trunk once more to each grab machetes. He felt kind of horrible handing the weapon to his brother, though he’d handed off shot guns and knives a hundred times before.

“So we’ll sneak close, get a good look inside and see where they have dad.” Because it was no longer an _if_ ; no body meant they’d taken John with them, for whatever reason. “If it looks feasible, we’ll bust in and get him out of there, okay?”

Sam hesitated, eyes flitting across to Dean’s for a few moments then he nodded. “Okay. But we do this slowly. We have to get them. If they’ve taken down a hunter like dad, well.” Sam looked down at the machete in his brother’s hand.

“I know. Don’t worry, we’ll be smart about this,” Dean nodded, saying it mostly to remind himself that they had to be. They’d be no help to their dad if they got themselves killed while trying to rescue him. “Ready?”

“Ready.” Sam took a deep breath and waited for Dean to move then fell into a crouch behind him.

They crept their way across the field to the broken-down warehouse. Dean led them around to the back door that he and his dad had used earlier to see inside. There were large windows on either side and even through the slight grime one could still get a good view of the place inside.

When they stopped at the back wall he nodded once at Sam before sliding up and peering in. At first he could only see one body, a man dressed in dark clothes and laying on an old mattress. There were others, beyond him, six in total like he’d thought. And then, tied to a post, was their dad.

“Shit,” he whispered, voice tight and eyes widening. “They’ve got him tied up. Can’t tell if he’s...” Dean looked over at Sam, blinking a few times to clear away the impulse to just charge in.

Sam’s finger moved quickly to circle Dean’s wrist. “Dean, we can’t just rush in there. Just take a few deep breaths, okay? Let me look properly.” Sam kept his hand on his brother’s arm and peered back through the very bottom of the window. Their father certainly didn’t look good but Sam couldn’t tell if he was unconscious, or worse. Dropping down again Sam turned back to Dean. “I can’t tell. You’re right though, there are six. Can we deal with six?”

“Maybe. We might not have to. If we could kill one or two the others might flee out of self- preservation alone. Don’t kill the girl, she’s like one of their mates. Unless we kill the mate of hers, then. Shit.” Dean inhaled quietly and shook his head. “One of us should get dad, the other should fight. We might have to just get him out of there and come back to finish the job.” It was going to be a real battle, either way. “You sure about this? I could go in alone.” He didn’t want Sam’s life in danger anymore than he wanted their dad’s to be.

“Jesus Dean, you’re not going in there by yourself.” Sam’s throat was aching from trying to keep his voice down. “I’m fine. Let’s just be careful. Let’s take out the two closest to Dad then you check him? We’ll take out the rest after you ... know.”

Dean didn’t like thinking of all the things he could _know_ and find out. “Yeah. Okay.” He nodded slowly and took another calming breath before turning and creeping for the door. Thankfully it was already partially open and he only had to push at it with his fingertips before it slid the rest of the way open.

Glancing back at his brother, he nodded once more before straightening up, leading the way silently inside. If the situation wasn’t so perilous Dean might have scoffed at how pathetic these vampires were, not even noticing him and Sam coming in. He gripped the weapon in his hand tightly and tensed his shoulders, barely making a noise as he closed in on the vampire nearest John’s bound body.

Before he took the first swing the air caught in his lungs and he held it for the entire drive down. The handle of the machete against his palm was rough, the weapon heavy, and really Dean had only ever used it once before--chopping down a small aspen tree. This was nothing like an aspen tree. It was severing a head from a body and he knew he had to be swift and strong to separate bone and tendons.

Air rushed along his arms as he brought the machete up and drove it down, just barely seeing Sam’s movements from the corner of his eye. The vampire was headless before Dean could even blink and that was enough to get all the others up and in action. “Sam, behind you!” Dean called, spinning to land a punch hard into the vampire that had darted forward toward him.

Sam ducked as Dean’s fist swung past him, tucked and rolled landing on his feet a short distance behind his brother. He was just in time to swing his machete in a full arc and slam it into another vampire’s neck. When the blade connected Sam felt the jolt up his entire arm and the disgusting crunch and grate as the steel cut through most of the vampire’s neck. Fighting the bile rising up in his throat, Sam stepped forward and stood on the vampire’s chest to pull the machete out.

A rush of pride shot through Dean as he watched his brother take down the vampire successfully. He turned, tossing the weapon in his hand, preparing for the next assault. The four remaining vampires were tense, arms at their sides, braced for a fight. Dean considered how to best do this - he could take the two on the left, Sam the ones on the right; maybe the creatures weren’t that experienced with fighting.

Instead, the four exchanged looks, blinking down at the blood stained machetes in both Sam and Dean’s hands, then turned and bolted for the door. Dean blinked, shifting out of his tense stance, looking over at his brother and shrugging. “We’ll get ‘em later.”

His sights were on his dad now and he turned quickly, dropping the machete and crossing quickly, kneeling beside him. “Dad? Dad, can you hear me?” He felt cold to the touch but his body moved; he was definitely alive. Dean reached out for the rope, testing its strength.

Sam was torn. He took a few steps toward the door. “Dean. Come on - we can get them on foot!” His hand was clenched around the machete so tightly his wrist was aching and he could feel that fast thud of his pulse in his fist.

John moaned and one eye opened. “Dean,” he groaned. His voice was rough, too small for the size of his frame and he sucked in a deep breath then coughed.

Impatient Sam strode back. “Dean. Come on.”

“Sam, stop it. He’s _alive_ \- we can’t just leave him like this.” Dean shot a disbelieving look at his brother over his shoulder. “We can track them later; it’s daylight, they won’t get far.” Turning his eyes back to his dad he reached down for the knife in his pocket, tugging it free. “It’s okay dad, we’re gonna get you out of here. You’re safe now.”

John twisted in his bonds and tried to shift away from Dean. “No, Dean leave me. Go.” His eyes looked as though they were trying to focus further away. “Sammy? Sam.”

Moving quickly, Sam strode over and took a knee beside his brother. “Hey dad. Yeah. It’s Sam.” He held Dean’s shoulder for balance and glanced quickly at his brother’s face. “Dean?’ Something wasn’t right. Call it instinct.

“Dad?” Dean’s brow furrowed, peering at their father for a long moment. “Shit. No.” There was only really one reason John would tell them to go and Dean wasn’t willing to accept that as an option. “Come on dad, let’s get, let’s just go.” He nodded quickly, flicking the blade open and preparing to cut at the rope. “You’re _fine_.”

“Don’t.” John’s eyes moved slowly away from Sam’s face to focus on his oldest. “Dean, don’t cut that rope.” He coughed again and spat out a mouthful of blood. “It’s too late.”

Sam’s fingers tightened on his brother’s shoulder. “Dean give me the knife.” There was only one reason their father wouldn’t want to be untied.

Dean’s hands were shaking, eyes widening up at his brother. “But.” Sam shook his head. The brotherly pull had Dean offering the blade to Sam, laying it in his palm, sliding a step back. “Dad.” His eyes dropped to his dad once more and he clenched his jaw. “You’re not- _fuck_ you can’t be.” It meant too many things, all narrowing down to one outcome, and Dean wasn’t sure either of them could handle that.

Pocketing his brother’s knife, Sam dropped down onto both his knees and reached up to pushed his father’s dark hair back off of his forehead. “Dad? What happened? What did they want?”

Coughing once more John smiled weakly at his youngest son. “Turned me, Sammy. S’hard. You boys gotta do it.”

Sam’s heart clenched as the white hot pain of realization shot through him. “No. No dad.” His head whipped around. “Dean? Do something.” Sam already knew there was nothing they could do.

It made his stomach twist violently and Dean was suddenly very glad they hadn’t eaten this morning. There was no solution but the one his father was offering. “Get out of here Sam,” Dean said quietly, turning his back to them both, bending down to pick up the machete from the ground. He braced himself, shoulders tensing, fingers curling around the worn handle. If he had to do this, he’d have to do it now and he was going to spare his brother. “Go wait outside.”

Shaking his head Sam moved closer to his father. His hand was still moving slowly on his father’s forehead. “No. No, dad - there’s gotta be something else we can do. There might be time. You’re not-”

John’s voice was gruff. “Sam, you listen to your brother. G’on and wait outside. Not spendin’ the rest of my time like this.” His eyes locked with Sam’s for a few moments, tears welling along the bottoms. “Sam. You know that there’s no way to stop it.”

Sam’s heart felt as though it had fallen through into the pit of his stomach. He _knew_ his father was right but somehow - he just couldn’t let it be _true._ Looking back over his shoulder he stared at Dean. His brother’s face was pale, lips a thin line but the hurt in Dean’s eyes was more than Sam could bear. Letting his hand slip to his father’s cheek Sam rubbed his thumb across his father’s bruised flesh, smiled, then stood up. “I’m not leaving you to do this alone, Dean.”

“You shouldn’t have to see this, Sam,” Dean said in almost a whisper, meeting his eyes for just a moment. “Just wait outside. It’s gonna be hard enough.” He was trying desperately not to think about it. He didn’t want to imagine the moment, brace himself for it; he wanted it to be just a patch in time where his mind was a complete void. To do that he couldn’t hold Sam’s gaze and see the pain there and he couldn’t look at their dad and know what was coming within moments.

“No, Dean, I’m sorry. This time you’re wrong. I’m staying.” Smiling down at his father Sam walked back to stand near Dean for a moment. “I can do it - if you need me to,” he said quietly. He wasn’t actually sure if that was the truth but for Dean...

“No. Sammy, no,” John groaned. “Dean.” His eyes sought out his oldest son’s once more and he nodded shallowly.

“I know.” Dean nodded. It wasn’t even an idea in his mind, to hand this task over to Sam. No one should have to do this but if it came down to the two of them, there was nothing Dean wouldn’t do to spare Sam hardship. “Dad.” He met the man’s eyes, blinking a few times, seeking reassurance that he really could do this. “I can’t- it shouldn’t be like this.” This wasn’t how John Winchester should go out, not at the hand of his own son, vampire or not.

John struggled to give his son a crooked smile. There were tears streaking through the blood on his cheeks. “You two take care of each other. Neither one of ya-” his body was jolted by a coughing fit for a few moments. “Neither one of you is as indestructible as the other thinks.” Taking as deep a breath as he could manage John smiled up at Dean. “Do it, son.”

Sam blinked his eyes and a shudder travelled across his shoulders and down his arms.

“Close your eyes.” Dean said, speaking to both Sam and their dad at this point. He knew he had to do it, knew there wasn’t another option, but taking that first step forward felt like the hardest thing he’d ever done.

Then it was only two more steps until he was close enough. His dad’s body twitched again, another cough, struggling against the bindings around him. The vampire within him was kicking in. And suddenly, Dean couldn’t stand the idea of what the hunter would be like if he lost out to the creature struggling for dominance. So he held his breath and lifted the machete.

Dean had never been more relieved for the training in his life. Even in the most heart-wrenching situation imaginable he knew exactly how to swing, felt the air rush along his arms, then the solid mass driven apart by the blade. It was over really before he had a chance to fully realize it in his mind. For a long minute he stood rooted in place, staring at his father’s lifeless form, then he released the handle of the machete and stepped back, turned away.

“Okay. We need to burn this place down. We need-” the words caught in his throat but Dean pushed through it, struggling for control, refusing to break down. “Gotta burn the bodies.”

Sam felt like the concrete had sent up cold, hard vines through his flesh and rooted him to the spot. It took him a full half minute to open his eyes and even then he looked everywhere but directly at his father’s body. _Fuck._ He swallowed and willed his feet to move forward so he could reach out and slide his hand over Dean’s back. “I. What should I do?” Sam wiped at the tears on his cheeks, not even knowing when he had started to cry. His brother’s cheeks were dry; Dean’s expression flat and almost lifeless. “Dean?”

“We have to get some gasoline. Then we’ll salt and burn. Dad would want-” Dean bit his lip for a moment, shaking his head and stooping down to grab Sam’s machete. “Come on. Let’s just go.” His shoulders shook for a moment with the effort it took to not lose himself in the overwhelming wash of grief he felt pressing down on him. There wasn’t time for that now.

Instead, he crossed the warehouse and held the door open for Sam, closing it behind him, walking silently in the direction of the car. “We just have to get through this.” He looked over at Sam, and considered reaching out to comfort him, but he didn’t trust himself to stay in control of his emotions if he did.

Stumbling slightly, Sam did what was automatic and followed along behind his brother. There was something inside his mind chanting over and over, _Dad’s dead_ , and it was making him want to throw up. Sam did something as they were walking to the car that he hadn’t done since he was six years old. He reached out and hooked a finger over Dean’s back pocket.

Dean glanced back at the touch and slowed his step for a moment, jaw clenching once more before he slowed and hooked his arm around Sam’s shoulder. Even if Sam was taller than him now the action was familiar and as comforting as it could be given their situation.

It was all routine outside the specific circumstances and complexities. A thousand different situations, burning body after body; salt and gasoline and the flare of a match. Dean knew the smell of burning flesh as well as he knew the smell of gun powder and the smell of the motel soap that he scrubbed with for hours after but never quite made him clean enough. So it wasn’t that difficult to fill the gas canister with gas at the pump, sending Sam inside to buy some extra salt from the mini-mart.

This time he didn’t allow Sam to argue. He told him to stay in the car when they pulled up behind the warehouse. The vampires wouldn’t have come back; they were probably holed up somewhere until they could run for it. Dean had no intention of letting them get that far.

It was kind of amazing how the mind could take control over a situation; Dean hardly felt a thing as he dumped gasoline and salt over his father’s body. Dropping a match was a little harder but really in the grand scheme of everything it was nothing. Their dad was long gone now, no longer a part of this world. Dean felt the break-down at that realization was just around the corner. He was fighting as much as he possibly could and only hoped he could make it back safely to the safety of the motel room before it hit.

Once the other two bodies were burning Dean’s work was done. He looked around the warehouse a few moments more before turning and heading back out to the car. Sliding in behind the wheel, he looked over at Sam and nodded once to say _it was done_ before starting up the engine. There wasn’t really anywhere else to go but back to the motel, which was fine; Dean wanted to stand under scolding hot water for awhile then get down to the business of finding the rest of the vampires that did this to their dad.

They stayed silent even as they headed inside. Dean was kicking off his shoes, tugging out of his jacket, ignoring the stains of blood on his hands. _Jesus_ , he couldn’t believe what had just happened. His breath caught in his throat as he pulled at his shirt, tugging it up along his chest. Tears pricked – finally, and _sharp_ \- at his eyes and his shoulders began to shake. When he closed his eyes to blink away the liquid he could see the blade of his machete driving through his father’s neck, could hear the crunch of bone and flesh. A surprised, harsh sob tore through Dean before he could bite it back and he stumbled forward, trying to get to the bathroom before Sam could notice.

“Dean?” Sam started at the sound; it was something he’d never heard from his brother. Moving before he had a chance to even think about it, Sam collided with Dean’s side and pulled him into his arms. “Dean. It’s gonna be -. We’re gonna be okay. I’m here.” It was all Sam had to offer. His brother’s body was trembling, shaking like a leaf and Sam just held on to him as Dean struggled against the emotion.

“I killed him, Sam,” Dean gasped, turning into his brother’s arms, closing his eyes as he buried his head into Sam’s neck. “I killed him. I killed Dad.” The words burned through his throat, knees weakening at the weight of them. Never in a thousand years would he imagine saying something like that, knowing it was true.

“No, Dean.” Sam struggled to hold his brother up and stumbled back toward the bed. “ _They_ did it Dean, it wasn’t you. You just stopped it from getting worse.” Sam’s voice was thick - each word felt like it was fighting not to come out. Turning them slowly, he lowered Dean down to the bed and sat beside him, keeping the man as close as he could. The smell of smoke clung to Dean’s hair, greasy and thick and Sam’s breath hitched.

“We have to find them. We have to kill them.” Dean sucked in a breath, pulling the emotions back, reigning them in. “I, I can take you back. If you want, first. But I’m gonna kill them all.” He wiped angrily at his cheeks, still sitting pressed against Sam’s side.

“Dean,” Sam said softly. “I’m not leaving you.” There was _no_ way Sam was leaving his brother to deal with this, leaving either of them alone to try and live with what had just happened. There was a place in Sam’s mind where he _knew_ John was dead but he was half-thinking that the man would stride through the door any moment, voice bellowing out orders.

Cupping a hand over Dean’s cheek Sam wiped at his brother’s tears gently. “We’ll find ‘em Dean. If that’s what you need to do we’ll hunt them.”

“We have to. For Dad.” Dean inhaled shakily, blinking away the last of the tears from his eyes so he could meet his brother’s gaze. “I can’t believe he’s gone.” He reached out and curved his fingers around Sam’s neck, shaking his head slowly. “He just, it happened so fast. Just like that.”

“You did good, Dean. You made him proud.” Sam had offered to deliver the final blow but he still didn’t know if he could have actually done it. Dean was always the one who had the tough choices. The one who _never_ let anyone down. Sam didn’t know what else to say to his brother; every stupid thing he could think of seemed like some meaningless platitude. So he pressed his forehead to Dean’s, hand rubbing up and down the man’s side.

Dean closed his eyes and took a few moments to soak in the grief.. He was going to miss their dad, but he’d already been saying goodbye to him for months now. “You okay, Sammy?” He whispered, voice tight.

Sam shook his head slowly. “Not really.” Sam’s hand slowed and stopped on his brother’s hip. “But you know Dean? I dunno - I’ve been _not_ okay for a long time.” Sam was weary of trying to be something he wasn’t, trying to understand why their lives were so different. “But I’m staying with you, okay? I’m not leaving.” Tilting his head gently, Sam brushed his lips across Dean’s cheek then froze.

Pulling back slightly Dean stared at Sam for a moment before squeezing his shoulder. “If you’re sure. You know I won’t make you.” He wanted Sam to stay with him - a year of being alone was hard to handle but after what just happened, he needed his brother’s company more than ever. “Gonna shower,” Dean said softly and he watched Sam for a minute more, wondering about the reasons Sam hadn’t been okay for so long and about the touch of lips on his cheek.

Unsurprisingly, it hurt to stand up and cross the room. He wanted to be broken just a little while longer, wanted to be comforted by his brother and mourn the loss of his father. But they couldn’t stall too long or the vampires would get away. “Will you tell me about it? Sometime?” Dean asked quietly, digging through his bag.

“What?” Sam’s brow furrowed and he scratched at the side of his head. “Yeah, sure,” he nodded. Sam wasn’t sure his brother was quite ready for _that_ conversation. “Go shower, you’ll feel better.”

“Don’t go anywhere,” Dean muttered, half glancing at him before shrugging and headed for the bathroom.

He shut his brain off while he showered. He didn’t want to think anymore, didn’t want to dwell on it, the death of their dad, the loss of someone so very important. He couldn’t really stand it. The water was hot and burning on his skin, too much but not enough. Dean had always been the strong one, always the one looking after Sam and doing what he was supposed to. Maybe he thought he deserved a moment to be broken for a little while.

When he came back into the motel room dressed in boxers and a thin shirt, Sam was spread out on his back staring up at the ceiling. Dean dropped his things on the duffel bag and stared at him for a long moment, biting down on his lip. Before Sam could say anything more he crossed the room and slid onto the mattress beside his brother, shifting onto his side and curling up against him. “Shh,” he whispered, laying his head on Sam’s shoulder. He didn’t want Sam to point out how much this wasn’t like him, how much he was probably freaking Sam out. He just needed _this_.

Sam’s body stiffened slightly and he moved to pull back but _God_ , Dean wasn’t asking for much. The smell of shampoo and soap wafted over Sam’s face and he forced himself to relax, then moved slowly so he could slide his arm under the back of Dean’s neck. “That okay?”

“Yeah.” Dean closed his eyes and breathed in the scent of his brother, ignoring the layers that spoke of death. “Sorry. I’ll be fine. Just, gonna sleep for a bit.” He was far too exhausted, worn to the bone and he knew he had to be putting Sam in a pretty uncomfortable position. “Should I go to my bed?”

Pressing his lips together Sam closed his eyes. _Yes._ “No, just rest.” Sam curled his arm tighter and pulled Dean over a little onto his chest. He liked the way the weight of Dean’s body helped to push the breath out of his lungs, helped him to keep breathing.

“You rest, too,” Dean insisted in a whisper, forcing the remaining tension to leave his chest, allowing the solid warmth of his brother to reassure him that he could make it through this.

Sam rubbed at his cheek. It was hot and itchy. He cracked an eye open and slammed it shut just as quickly as the sun nearly blinded him. _Sun?_. Turning his head slightly Sam’s chin bumped into something soft. When he glanced down he realized why he was so hot. It was, in part, due to the fact that Dean was sleeping pretty much across Sam’s chest.

Rolling his bottom lip under his teeth, Sam smiled slightly. His brother’s cheeks were sleep-ruddy, his lips puffing out slightly with each deep breath. Dean’s hair was redder in the sunlight that was beating down on them and Sam couldn’t resist lifting his fingers to smooth over the tousled strands.

In Sam’s entire life, the only time he’d ever seen his brother look truly relaxed was when he was sleeping. When Sam was younger and still having nightmares he would sneak into Dean’s bed in the early hours of the morning and watch his brother’s face as he slept. As a kid, he’d figured that if Dean looked peaceful then there couldn't be anything bad around to get him. Sam knew that wasn’t quite the truth now but it soothed him none-the-less to see Dean sleeping so peacefully.

He let his fingers trail down over his brother’s forehead, tracing the strong line of his nose, then drew a trail connecting each freckle across Dean’s cheek. Sam ended up withmoles, and Dean got freckles. Somehow, that had never seemed fair. Now? Sam was glad. He hesitated for a moment at the corner of Dean’s mouth then ghosted his finger across the full bottom lip. It was softer than Sam expected, smooth like some finely woven silk.

Glancing up, he was met with the sleepy gaze of his brother’s eyes. Sucking in a surprised breath Sam dropped his hand to his chest quickly. “Morning, we slept a long time.”

Dean stared at his brother for a long moment, his lips still tingling, and a thousand questions sparked in his mind but he bit them back. “A long time?” he finally murmured then rolled over, pushing up. “ _Shit_ all night? The vampires.” It all rushed back into Dean, startlingly clear and he exhaled shakily. “They’re probably long gone. We’ll have to track them.”

Sam felt relief wash over him as Dean ignored the way they’d woken up. “I didn’t mean to sleep so long. We... well, it was probably shock. You want to leave right away? Head back-“ Head back _there_. Everything now would start at the spot where Dean was forced to kill their father. _Everything._

“I-” Dean never wanted to set foot in that warehouse again. Not if he could help it. “Don’t think they would have gone back there, do you? We’ll just have to follow the bodies, I guess.” God, that sounded unpleasant. It reminded Dean that there was more to this than avenging their father, it was doing the thing he’d raised them to do. “We gotta eat something first, Sam--we didn’t eat at all yesterday.”

Nodding, Sam got up quickly and moved over to his duffel. “Do I have time for a shower?”

“Yeah, you need one.” Dean scrunched his face up and grinned over at Sam, teasing him to let him know it was okay. He had no idea what _it_ was all about but it was okay.

“Yeah,” Sam smiled, slightly nervous. “Okay. I’ll just-” he waved at the bathroom and headed straight for the door. “I’ll be as fast as I can.” Closing the door quickly behind him Sam swore softly under his breath and leaned on the counter to look in the mirror. “Way to go, Sam,” he whispered.

“Our biggest problem-” Dean flipped the page, following road maps, nudging at the bridge of his glasses with a finger. The waitress stopped at their table, smiling as she slid plates down in front them. Dean ignored her, looking up at his brother instead. “We either have to wait, give them a day or two so reports can start up and we can see where they might have gone. Or we just pick a random direction and hope it’s good.”

Picking up his fork, Sam stabbed at his pancakes and moved them around on his plate. “Dean? What do you think this was all about? I mean. They kept him alive a long time before they-” Sam still had trouble saying the words out loud. “What do you think is going on? Are they just so pissed at hunters that this is their way of getting back at us?”

“Might just be them wanting a hunter as their own kind. Naturally strong already. From the way they bolted yesterday I’m guessin’ they’re all pretty young.” It was a small win but one none-the-less. They’d be sloppy, they wouldn’t go through too much effort hiding themselves from anyone tracking them. “Maybe a hunter killed one of their own, maybe this was their way of getting revenge.” He shrugged, nearly losing his appetite with the thought.

Sam pushed his plate to the side. “You think there’s just four left now? They’re just gonna run, I guess.” Sighing, Sam sank down a little in the booth and stretched his legs out in front of him. His ankle rested against Dean’s and he left it there; he’d take a little comfort where he could get it.

“Might settle down somewhere. Their nested looked pretty well developed, seems like they’re holed up. . I’m thinking pretty big city, somewhere the deaths would be more easily written off.” Dean slid his ankle against Sam’s, considering moving away but giving up on the idea after only a few moments.

“Okay.” Sam tossed his napkin on his plate. “We should call Bobby.” His eyes widened. It hadn’t really occurred to him before to let anyone else know about their father. John’s phone probably contained a plethora of contacts but he wasn’t sure how many of those would extend beyond the acquaintance of having worked a job together.

“Shit.” Dean whispered, not even wanting to imagine what it would be like to tell Bobby this. “We need to find dad’s truck, his phone. Might be by the warehouse, still. His phone’s gonna be with the cops, we’ll have to break in somehow and get it.” Ideas were racing through his mind at lightning speed and Dean wanted to escape them; he didn’t want to do any of this. He wanted to go back to bed.

“We can find the truck. In a place this size there’s probably only one impound. We might have to wait till later to get in there. You want to go ahead after them and I’ll take care of dad’s things?” Sam shifted restlessly on the bench. Sitting there felt like they were doing a _whole_ lot of nothing and the last thing Sam needed was to have too much time to think. It was, no doubt, the last thing either of them needed.

“Shouldn’t separate.” Dean shook his head quickly. Separating was how his dad had gotten into that position in the first place. “Tryin’ to get rid of me already, huh?” Dean half smirked at him, nudging his leg against Sam’s.

Shaking his head Sam dropped his gaze. “No, m’not. Just trying to help. I guess. So, we gottta stay here until night to get the truck, unless you think we can get to it during the day? Guess we gotta find out where it is, first.” Sam sighed.

Dean felt like asking Sam if he was sure he wanted to be here, but he didn’t want to annoy his brother by making it seem like he wasn’t trusting Sam. “I know where the station is, salvage yard’s probably close to it. We just have to break in long enough to get into the truck and look for any of dad’s things. So one of us distracts the worker, the other does whatever?” Dean forced himself to take a few bites of egg, just to have something in his stomach.

Smiling slightly, Sam sat up. It was _something_ to do at least. “I’ll do the distracting, I’m cuter.” The teasing felt a little hollow but it was almost automatic.

“Bull shit.” Dean grunted but didn’t argue. He had more practice sneaking into places anyway. “Eat something, Sam,” he insisted and slid his legs forward once more, stretching in the booth.

“I did,” Sam lied easily. He picked up his coffee and took a few more sips.

“Sam.” Dean narrowed his eyes at his brother and let his head tilt to the side. “I may have changed in the last year but I’m still you’re big brother and you still can’t lie for shit to me. So. Eat.” As if to prove it was the best thing to do, Dean forced a few more bites of eggs into his mouth.

Shoulders sagging, Sam picked up his fork and shoved the napkin aside and got a big piece of pancake ready. He stuffed it in his mouth and raised his eyebrows at his brother.

Snorting quietly, Dean dipped his head in a nod. “Good boy.” He got a kick in the shin for the remark but at least Sam took another bite.

It turned out to be easy to sneak into the impound lot. Their dad’s truck was around the back and it hardly took any time for Dean to spot it. He pretended to casually stroll by as Sam went into the front office to distract whoever was working. He still had a key for the rusted green truck on his key ring so the moment he’d scaled the fence and dropped down he was sneaking over and unlocking the passenger door.

John kept a safe in the back with his most valuable information. Dean had expected some fake IDs, a gun or two, but not much more. Only when he’d entered the combination - still the same from their childhood - Dean found a ridiculous amount of money. More than he’d ever seen. “Jesus Dad,” he whispered, blinking wide-eyed at the stacks of green.

No one else had gone through the truck so John’s bag was still there, and Dean stuffed all the money into the bag, emptying the safe and doing a quick once over. The last thing he snagged was the cell phone, stuffing it into his pocket before heading for the fence once more. His mind was racing, one thought after another. Like why did their dad have all this money and _where_ did it come from?

Dean threw the bag into the back of the car and headed for the office, eager to talk to Sam about this new piece of information. When he pulled the door open Sam was leaning against the counter, talking to the young man on the other side. The young man was leaning toward him, laying a hand on Sam’s forearm, and Dean blinked, pursing his lips. “Ready?” he asked when Sam looked toward him, turning around and leaving the office before Sam could answer. He told himself it was to give Sam privacy in case he was trying to set something up with the guy, but something burned in his chest.

Sam said good-bye as quickly as he could to _Rick_ and headed out the front door. Jogging he caught up to Dean quickly. “You get everything okay?”

“You wanna hook up with that guy?” Dean looked over at his brother. Not what he meant to say but, whatever. “Cause you can, I don’t care. I can go somewhere else later or something.” He shrugged, pulling his keys from his pocket once more.

“What?” Sam stopped in his tracks. “‘Cause I’m _really_ gonna do that the day after my father died.” Sam’s voice was soft. _Fuck_ , that hurt. “I just did what you told me to.”

“It’s not like it’s a crime,” Dean pointed out, turning to look over at Sam. He couldn’t explain the way he was feeling at the moment and he shook his head. “Whatever. Shit man, you won’t _believe_ what I found.” He chose to focus on that instead whatever the other thing was. Like why Sam wasn’t denying that he would want to hook up with a guy in the first place.

A frown creased Sam’s brow and he shook his head. “Wait a minute, what’s not a crime?” Sam took a few paces forward and stared at his brother. Okay, so maybe he had been a little bit defensive about the guy comment but there were some things that Sam wasn’t so sure he wanted to discuss.

“If you want to hook up with a random person for a bit of comfort, no-one would hold it against you--I sure wouldn’t.” Dean knew a little something about needing comfort and he shrugged at his brother before tugging the door open, sliding in behind the wheel and pulling it closed behind him.

Sighing, Sam pulled the passenger door open, slid into the car and slammed the door.

Dean wasn’t exactly sure why he’d pissed his brother off so much but then, that happened quite a lot. This probably had a lot to do with something that should have been obvious - i.e. their dad dying yesterday - but Dean never saw things that way. Why should he? It wasn’t like he needed to fit into any rational world where standard practices and morals were upheld.

So he turned the music up loud and drove through town, keeping his gaze fixed out the window. When Sam slammed the door again as they pulled up to the motel he rolled his eyes and reached in the back to grab his dad’s bag. The motel door slammed too - _god_. Dean told himself he wasn’t going to fuck things up with his brother but it was like he did things unintentionally, like his default mode was to piss Sam off whether he meant to or not.

“God, Sam. You want to get over yourself for just a fuckin’ second and tell me what I did wrong?” Dean dropped the bag on the table, kicking the door shut behind him.

“Why’d you say that to me?” Sam’s hands were curled into fists in his jacket pockets.

“Say what? Offer you a chance to use the motel room as a hook up?” Dean arched his eyebrows at his brother and kicked out of his boots. “I don’t know Sam, forgive me for being such an asshole thinkin’ you might want comfort sex.”

“Well, that might be what you want but it’s not what I want. And I don’t need your permission,” Sam spat. “I’m not going to sit here and take this stupid shit from you.” He knew that he wasn’t mad at what Dean said, he was mad at what he hadn’t found the courage to tell his brother. Andjust like that, they found their way back into the same routine of not saying what needed to be said.

Dean dropped his jacket over the back of the chair and turned to Sam, exhaling slowly. “Sorry for trying, Sam. Pretend I said nothing; can you stop being mad at me for the most fucking ridiculous thing ever?” Dean was admittedly still pretty confused by the entire fight and more than ready to move on to something else.

“Why? Why’d you think I wanted to go with that guy?”

 _Ah_. The real issue. Dean blinked over at his brother and shrugged. “You were flirting. He was touching you. I’ve been in those situations enough to put the pieces together.” Dean rolled his lips together and slowly crossed to his brother. “You know, it’s not a big deal, Sam. I don’t care if you like guys or girls, I’d never judge you for something like that.”

Sam’s brow furrowed. He could feel his heart starting to race as he sat there trying to get the right words together in his head. “I wanted to tell you. Myself, I mean. When the time was- when I figured out how to-” Sam cleared his throat. “Can you tell? That I...” Sam could feel the heat of embarrassment on his chest and neck.

Dean stared at his brother for a long moment, half expecting the vampires to burst through the door because it continued to be one _too_ -big thing after another. Sure, on different spectrums but still. “That you’re gay?” Dean asked quietly, and scratched along his arm. “It’s not like you’re going around sporting pride flags or anything. I just, the way your dorm-mates reacted when I came out in your sweats, and then the guy thing; I know you better than anyone, or I used too. I can wait for you to tell me if you’d rather.” He half-smiled at Sam, trying to ease the tension.

Sam looked up at his brother. “Just don’t change. I mean. I left ‘cause- I-” Sam pulled his hands out of his pocket and headed toward the door. “Don’t hate me okay? Or... like be different or ... yeah.”

“Sam, you haven’t called me for a year no matter how many times I called and I don’t hate you over that. I’m not going to hate you for liking guys. It’s not like I can’t appreciate- where are you going?” Dean stepped toward him, eyes widening. “Where are you going, Sam?”

“Just gonna go out for a bit, clear my head. You know? It’s been - this is all a lot.” Sam ran his fingers through his hair and backed into the door then turned to pull it open. “I’ll be back later, okay? You need anything?”

Dean’s heart sank slightly and he turned away. “No.” He’d done it himself a million times, left to _clear his head_. He wondered if it’d be the same, if Sam would come home smelling like sex and alcohol. Like somehow he and Sam had switched places. If Sam was still in the doorway he didn’t bother looking, just crossed to the bathroom and slammed the door behind him.

Sam stared at the closed door and rubbed at his face, then turned quickly and left. He had a lot of thinking to do.


	3. Chapter 3

Sam hadn't intended to get drunk. Or maybe he had; the fact was he was feeling no pain. For ten minutes after he left their motel room all he could hear was the door slamming. It kind of represented how he felt about things. He'd thought maybe that he and Dean could be better together, that maybe Sam had had enough time away that he could be around Dean without getting so messed up about things. Apparently, Sam was wrong.

He had wanted to tell Dean that he was gay for years. He'd figured he was gay long before he left home but there was never much chance for him to try much to with anyone. He was always so busy following his brother around, trying to be like Dean, wanting to be around him. The problem was, that had never really changed. Finally, Sam had decided that going away to school might be the answer - give himself some time to sort things out and figure out a way to talk to his brother. _Or his Dad._ He'd never had a chance to even get as far as _thinking_ about telling his father and now he would never have the opportunity.

There was a roadhouse about a quarter mile from the motel and Sam had slipped inside quickly and ordered a whisky. One whisky hadn't done much to dull his thoughts so he'd ordered another. The burn felt good in his throat, like maybe it would clear some of the words out of the way and he'd be able to talk to his brother without screwing things up. Or maybe he'd just keep drinking until the burn in his heart stopped.

By about six in the evening Sam was hungry and when he realized he couldn't actually focus on the menu he decided to go back to the motel room. The bartender didn't seem too keen on giving him another drink anyway, even thought Sam had left the guy a twenty dollar tip. He figured he didn't need to worry about hanging on to his money anymore, now that he wouldn't be going back to school.

The walk back to the motel seemed longer and Sam got a bit turned around once. _God_ -damned roadside motels all looked the same. It wasn't until he finally remembered he had parked around back that he realized where their room was.

Just outside their door Sam took a few deep breaths and smoothed down his hair, then pushed the door open. Blinking a few times, his eyes finally settled on his brother who was sitting on his bed reading. “Hey,” Sam muttered.

Heading over to the desk, Sam struggled out of his jacket and hung it carefully over the back of the chair. He stood there for a few minutes, trying to get make his eyes focus on his hands, then turned to head back to the bed. He stumbled slightly but found his way to the end of his bed and sat down. “You good?”

“Fine.” Dean didn’t bother looking up from his book but he could see his brother stumbling slightly and sighed. “Ordered some pizza, it’s on the table if you want it.” It hadn’t taken him long to figure out Sam was going to go drinking, and why the hell not? It was a shit twenty four hours; Dean pulled Sam from the life he knew and threw him back into the horrors of this world they knew too well. If the shoes were reversed Dean would want to be fucking wasted, too.

“Y’a pissed at me?” Sam blinked a few times and scratched at the side of his nose. Dean wasn’t looking at him and for some reason, that made him feel even worse about everything that had gone on.

“I don’t care Sam, you’re a big kid, you do what you want.” Dean shifted back on his bed, reading the same paragraph over. Weird, the role reversal, very weird. “Water in the fridge,” he added, just because he’d rather not have to deal with a hungover Sam tomorrow, too.

“Don’t need water,” Sam mumbled. Struggling with the buttons on his shirt Sam tugged until the top button popped off his shirt. “Shit,” he said softly. Letting his hands drop to his lap he licked his lips and squinted across at Dean. His world was tipping a bit - this weird angle that made everything feel a bit off.

“Dean. Can’t you look at me anymore?” Sam grinned and tugged at his shirt again.

“I’m trying to read, Sam. Could you just drink the last beer in the fridge and pass out or something? Because we can’t talk about anything of substance while you’re drunk.” Dean thought about the money in their dad’s bag; he’d counted it while Sam was gone. There was over twenty thousand, and it hadn’t settled any thoughts in his mind; he was more agitated now than he had been when Sam left.

“M’not drunk. I only had a few drinks. Where’s the pizza?” Sam lurched up off the bed and laughed softly as he tried to head in what he _thought_ was a straight line to the desk. “D’you remember that first time I got drunk? Dude. Hah. On that...what was that stuff called? My lips were all sticky. But then they went numb.” Momentarily distracted, Sam poked a finger at his bottom lip to see if he could still feel it.

“I remember Mad Dog 20/20. We thought it was less alcoholic because of all the sugar.” Dean pushed up off the bed, slipping the bookmark into place and set both the book and his glasses onto the nightstand. “Pizza.” He crossed the room to the box, laying a hand on the small of Sam’s back to finish guiding him to the table. “Come on, pepperoni or sausage? I got both for you because I know you can never decide.” Dean smiled slightly, reminding himself that he was trying not to give Sam a hard time in light of it all.

Sam swayed a little and turned into Dean’s arm. “You know I was gonna tell you right? When I figured it out?” For some reason, ever since he’d left the Motel room Sam had been most worried about Dean thinking that he’d been keeping secrets. Well, _that_ secret anyway. Sam felt like he had a lot of secrets.

Pressing his hand to his brother’s cheek, Sam smiled slightly and swayed forward to wrap his arms around Dean. “You’re like the best person in my life. You know that too, right?” Sam buried his nose in his brother’s hair. It smelled the same, like all those years ago - warm summers and falling asleep in the grass on a beautiful night.

“I’m sure you have lots of secrets, Sam,” Dean said quietly, because there were plenty of things about Sam he wondered about now. “You’re the best person in my life, too,” he added in a whisper. He squeezed Sam for a long moment before snatching the pizza box and guiding his brother back to the bed. “Come on, freak, eat some pizza so you’ll regret it when you throw up in the morning.” He grinned at that, laughing when Sam nearly sent them tumbling to the floor. “I forgot what you were like drunk.”

“M’not drunk, even.” Sam tried to roll his eyes but it actually made him feel a little ill. “Dean, can I tell you something?” Sam sank down gratefully onto the mattress and kept hold of his brother’s sleeve. For some reason he wasn’t so much hungry anymore as he was _really_ fucking tired.

“Sure Sammy, lay it on me.” Dean dropped onto the mattress because he didn’t have much of a choice and settled the box back behind them, flipping at the lid. “Seriously, sausage or pepperoni man? ‘Cause now I want another piece.”

"Dean, I have one big fucking secret. It's the kind that eats you up inside you know?" Sam thought about a piece of pizza but decided he would probably choke on it. Reaching out he grabbed a handful of Dean's shirt. "Do y'wanna know my secret?" Sam grinned and patted at Dean's cheek with his free hand.

“Of course I do,” Dean nodded slowly, a little unsure if he really did want to know the secret. After all, if it were bigger than the gay thing, Dean wasn’t sure what it could be. “You don’t like, kill little kids, right?” Dean said with a half laugh, reaching out to snag Sam’s hand to stop him from patting his cheek once more.

“Jesus, Dean.” Sam shook his head. That was pretty much a mistake and he rubbed at his eyes for a few moments. “No. I don’t- God.” Sam swallowed and winced. “I don’t feel so good.”

“Are you going to yack?” Dean scrunched his face up slightly and pushed away from Sam, stumbling around to get the trash can. “Man I was kidding, you know? You just, I feel like I don’t know a lot about you so-” Dean shrugged and wondered why he was even trying; clearly Sam was drunk enough to not be in his right mind.

“Dean. I don’t throw up,” Sam insisted. “You went away.” Sam’s hands fell to his lap again and he flopped back on his bed, barely missing the pizza box.

“Everyone throws up, Sam.” Dean pointed out, dropping the trash can nearby just in case and moving the pizza box so he could lay on the bed by his brother. “Alright. What’s your secret?”

Rolling over, Sam flopped his arm over Dean’s waist and wriggled up as close as he could. Burying his nose against Dean’s chest Sam murmured, “I love you.”

Blinking a few times, Dean’s brow furrowed in slight confusion as his arm wrapped around Sam. “Yeah Sam, I love you too.” The way Sam was pressed against him reminded him of so many times years ago, moments that had long since passed. Dean smiled softly and squeezed Sam just barely.

Sam yawned and nestled closer, slipping his hand in Dean’s back pocket. “Not like that,” he mumbled. “In love.” Sam’s mind was whirling and it felt like the bed was spinning so he just held on tighter to Dean. Dean always made everything better in the end and even as Sam started to lose consciousness he thought how Dean would probably make this better, too.

 _In love_. The words echoed around Dean’s mind so many times he was fairly certain Sam was passed out before they really finally registered. He didn’t even know where to begin to sort it out, to put all the pieces together. Sam. _In love_. With him. When did this happen? How did it even become this? How did Sam go from being his baby brother to being in love with him?

“How long, Sammy?” he asked quietly, sliding a hand through Sam’s hair. He thought he might be asleep, passed out, but there were so many questions and he needed something.

Sam hummed quietly. _Dean_. The question worked its way into his mind. _How long?_. "Since Lake Paul. S’good there.” Pressing his lips to his brother’s neck he sighed.

“Lake Paul?” Dean repeated slowly, adding up the years in his mind. “Damn, five years, Sam? Really?” That was a long time to carry around something like that. And all the pieces were spreading out, sorting into something Dean could start to put together if he thought hard enough about it. “Are you sure Sam? It’s not just a…brother-worship thing?” This changed so many things; Dean’s heart was racing already just thinking about everything he had to figure out.

Sam pulled back slightly and blinked his eyes open. The problem was, they wouldn't _stay_ open. "You're my life," he murmured and leaned forward to kiss Dean's lips. He missed slightly and hit the corner of Dean's mouth but it still tasted good, sweet, a little salty and Dean smelled _so_ good. Letting out a long breath of air, Sam nestled back against Dean’s body.

It was weird the way Dean’s lips were tingling. He touched them softly, keeping his arm around Sam, and blinked up at the ceiling. He could think back now, over all the years, at the way Sam had looked at him. And then at the end when Sam was getting ready to go but didn’t look as thrilled as he maybe should have been. Just resigned. As Dean laid there with his softly snoring brother - who was _in love_ with him - pressed against his body, it all filed through his mind. One after the other, a million things he should have seen before but never had.

This was the part where Dean should have been freaking out. He should have rolled Sam off his body, gone to his own bed and seriously considered what the hell they were supposed to do now. But he couldn’t get himself to move and he knew that the night before he’d slept better than he had in years, so, staying there with Sam kind of made sense. This conversation wasn’t over by a long shot, though; a solid three hours of thinking and his mind was still racing just as fast.

Dean was never really aware of falling asleep, but he knew at some point in the middle of the night Sam stumbled out of the bed and to the bathroom. Dean woke long enough to watch him, curious to see where he’d go, then he was back again, pressing against Dean’s side, tugging the blanket over them. Soon he was drifting off to sleep again.

The next time he woke up the sun was just barely peeking in through the closed blinds. There was enough light for Dean to see Sam’s relaxed features, a small smile on his face like he couldn’t imagine being happier than at that moment. Dean didn’t have the heart to move him, so he just shifted enough until he could get his book and glasses and settled in to wait until Sam woke up. At least then Sam wouldn’t be able to get away before they had a chance to talk.

The first thing Sam felt when he awoke was the pounding in his head. It was wretched and he couldn't even stand the thought of opening his eyes. Groaning, Sam shifted slightly and found himself nuzzling against a familiar body. Prying one eye open he looked up at his brother. “Oh _God_. I’m _so_ sorry.”

That answered Dean’s first question right off the bat. His lips quirked slightly and he slipped the bookmark back into place, closing his book. “What are you apologizing for? Which thing?” He wished that he’d gotten somewhere with his thoughts, that he had something to offer Sam.

“I - everything,” Sam planted his hands on the bed and pushed up. “I’m gonna have a shower. I- yeah.”

“Sam.” Dean pushed up to follow Sam’s motions, reaching out to grab his cheeks. Before he could really think more about it Dean was bringing him forward, softly brushing their lips together. Sam tasted like stale alcohol and sleep but he was hoping it would go a long way in reassuring his brother. Maybe. “It’s okay,” he whispered, hands curving along his neck and massaging softly.

Frowning, Sam pulled back, eyes darting from Dean's lips back up to his eyes. "Don't-" Sam shook his head and closed his eyes, lips twitching slightly. "I can't- you don't. No. No." Sam struggled out of Dean's grip and moved to the edge of the bed. The world spun around him and he dropped his head into his hands. "Fuck," he hissed.

Dean’s shoulders dropped slightly. Really, he should have seen _that_ outcome happening. “Sorry.” He shrugged and looked away, wanting to talk about it but not knowing where to begin. “Did you mean it?” was what he finally settled on because wouldn’t it be pretty fucked up if that was the kind of thing Sam joked around about while he was drunk?

“Can we just pretend last night never happened?” Sam pushed up off the bed and stumbled when his head spun again. “God, I feel like shit.” Moving as slowly as he could Sam headed over to the small fridge and bent down carefully to grab a bottle of water.

“So, I’m supposed to pretend like you didn’t tell me you were in love with me?” Dean asked his lap, not looking up at Sam. Irritation grew in him, along with the disbelief that his brother - the one who _always_ wanted to talk - had no interest in discussing it. “Fine. Whatever. Take a shower and get yourself together, we need to talk about dad.”

Blinking, Sam stared wide-eyed at his brother for a few moments then turned and headed for the bathroom. Tearing his clothes off, Sam turned the shower on as hot as he could get it and stepped under the water. It burned at his skin but he didn’t care; he was a complete idiot. Not only should he not have gone out and gotten drunk in the first place, he certainly shouldn’t have been stupid enough to tell Dean ... anything let alone- “Fuck.”

Slamming his hand against the wall Sam closed his eyes. This was one of those things that was going to fuck things up, send them on a different path and there would be no going back. No matter how many times Sam refused to talk about it the whole nasty thing would still be there. Sighing, Sam started to try to clean away the smell of alcohol.

He showered quickly, toweled himself off afterward and after a few moments of hesitation pulled his dirty boxers and jeans back on. He couldn’t face heading out into the room in just a towel.

Leaving the bathroom in a cloud of steam, Sam was still rubbing at his hair with a towel when his eyes moved over to Dean and then settled on his bed. It was covered in money, bills, spread out all over the blanket. Laughing softly in disbelief Sam froze, towel still pressed to his hair. “What the fuck?”

“I know, right?” Dean looked over at Sam, staring at him for just a moment before looking back at the bed. “This was in dad’s safe in the truck. I have no idea where it came from but there’s about twenty thousand.” It made him view his dad in a whole different light; Dean wasn’t sure if he could even hazard a guess as to what the money might be for.

“I- I don’t understand.” Sam lowered the towel and padded over to sink back down onto his bed. “What was he doing?”

“I have no clue. It just, it was all there. All this money. And I don’t know what he could possibly need it for or how he could have gotten it.” Dean sighed. Damn his family members and their secrets. Dean just wanted everything to be okay, he wanted to hunt down the vampire scum that killed his dad and get along with Sam and, do whatever it was they were going to do when the vampires were dead.

Lifting his gaze to his brother, Dean pursed his lips for a moment before sighing again. “I slept with this guy. A few months ago. It just happened. Anyway.” Dean blinked at Sam and groaned. “I don’t know why I just told you that. Should we get breakfast and go?”

“You what?” Sam was having trouble keeping up with the morning already. Seeing as it still seemed pretty early he figured that was a bad sign. “I. Okay. Sure.” But he sat there on the edge of the bed staring down at his towel.

“I didn’t tell you that to make you feel jealous. I mean, if you were. Which. God, I just. So it’s not like I don’t get the whole being into guys thing. Okay?” There was _so_ much more to it than that but Dean thought maybe they could start somewhere. Here, maybe.

“Not jealous,” Sam muttered. “But thanks, I get - I mean. Thanks.” Swallowing, Sam stood and headed back to the bathroom to toss the towel into the bathtub. Walking back to his duffel, he pulled out a clean t-shirt and tugged it on. “Ready. I guess.”

Sam’s stomach was twisted up in knots. Knots that were missing his dad, knots that wanted to take back everything he’d said the night before, knots of pain and hurt and feeling like he wanted to puke his guts out. All in all, not his best morning.

Dean decided _not talking_ for awhile was a good idea. Only it left him alone with his thoughts, which wasn’t so good. And clearly they weren’t going to be talking about anything of merit any time soon. It felt strange that he _wanted_ to. Instead he turned and headed out of the motel room, leaving Sam to follow.

Breakfast was quiet. Sam wanted to talk, but just couldn't figure out what to say. There seemed to be so many words that Sam felt like he should be saying but it was just so much _safer_ to be silent. He actually managed to eat some pancakes which surprised him, and his stomach settled a little. When he could he would glance up quickly and steal a look at Dean's face. It was funny, nothing seemed to have changed much. If things weren't so silent Sam would have had no idea that anything had been said at all, no idea that they suddenly had an extra mystery to sort out while tracking their father's murderers. Just an average Winchester morning.

While they were at the restaurant Sam got on the laptop and looked up the news. He spread his search further afield until he found a series of suspicious deaths that lined up and suggested a possible route for the vampires. It was worth a shot.

They paid and headed out. Dean pulled out on the highway and Sam rolled his window down; fresh air made his stomach feel better. It was probably half an hour before Sam spoke. “Dean?”

‘Yeah?” Dean had long since given up on the pretense of listening to music. He couldn’t stop his mind from whirling around a thousand thoughts a minute. It was a little unsettling. Glancing over at Sam, he frowned slightly. “What?”

Sam kept his eyes on the scenery that was speeding by. “I meant it,” he whispered.

Dean didn’t have to ask what _it_ was. The words settled into the collective mass of his thoughts and he bit down on his lip, processing. “Five years?” he asked just as quietly, figuring having the facts straight would help.

“Guess so.” Sam let his head fall against the window. “Didn’t seem so long.” Sam’s heart was racing and he took a deep breath. Half of him was waiting for the car to lurch to the side and for Dean to shove him out because - really - being _in love_ with your brother was too far out, even for _their_ lives.

Some weird part of Dean wanted to say it back, but he didn’t because Sam didn’t want that. And he couldn’t lie. Only maybe it wouldn’t be a lie but Dean hadn’t gotten to that point in his thought process. “That’s a long time to carry such a big secret.” Dean glanced his way, considered reaching out but stopped himself.

Sam shrugged a shoulder. “Not like it should have ever been said out-loud.”

“Maybe it should have been.” Dean tightened his hold on the wheel and stared out at the road in front of them. This was the part where he should mention the details. Like, _brothers_ , and the whole list of reasons it was oh-so-wrong. But he couldn’t find the words so he didn’t say anything. “Do you only like guys?” he asked instead, racking his mind, trying to remember who Sam had seemed interested in during school.

“What does it matter? Dean, you don’t have to do this.” Sam finally managed to look over at his brother. “Don’t try and make it okay. I know it’s not normal. Learned to live with _that_ part of it a long time ago.” Sighing, Sam looked back toward his window.

“Why don’t you want to talk to me?” Dean had finally asked something that had been bugging him for a year. And _okay_ , he got part of it now but it made his heart clench a little to hear Sam’s quick remarks to make the conversation stop. “You used to want to talk to me all the time. I used to make you shut up. Why is it different? Now that I want to talk, why don’t you?”

Sam's bottom lip trembled slightly and he turned further away so his brother couldn't see his face. "Because it hurts," Sam murmured. He'd spent a long time trying to get over his brother, convincing himself that it was a phase, some weird-ass physiological feedback loop. Their lives had been so crazy; he'd been raised in motel rooms and never had any friends of any real substance besides his brother. "I went away to try and change things. But nothing's changed, Dean. I still feel the same - and it's kinda like being eaten alive, you know?" Swallowing, he laughed coldly. "Of course you don't know."

“So what happens, then? We can’t pretend like you didn’t say, that you’re not-” Dean inhaled slowly, keeping his eyes locked on the road in attempt to not get too worked up. “What are the choices here, Sam? You stay with me and you’re miserable. I take you back and we’re both miserable but there you won’t even answer or return my calls. What do I do to make it better?”

“Stop the car.”

Dean bit his lip but did as Sam said, pulling over to the side of the road and shifting the car into park. “This the part where you take off?”

Sam scowled. “No, this is the part where I puke.” Yanking his door open Sam stumbled a few steps away from the car, dropped to his knees and threw up everything he’d managed to eat that morning.

Climbing out of the car, Dean moved quickly around to the bent form of his brother. “Thought you didn’t throw up,” he said softly when Sam stopped heaving, crouching down to slowly reach out and lay a hand on his back, rubbing in smoothing, small circles.

Groaning, Sam pressed his thumb and forefinger into his eyes. “Don’t usually. Don’t usually drink that much either. Or tell you I love you.” Sam shrugged and coughed.

“Let’s face it Sam, the last couple of days have just been... a lot.” Dean sighed and kept rubbing along his brother’s back for a moment before turning and pushing up, crossing to the car until he could dig inside and pull out a bottle of water.

When he returned to Sam he knelt once more and unscrewed the cap, offering it out to his brother. “Sam, drink that. Then I need to tell you something.”

Sam swished some water in his mouth and spit it out then drank half the bottle. He might never hear those words again without cringing. _Talking_ was ending up being a nightmare each time they tried it. He poured some water on his hand and splashed it on his face then gazed over at his brother.

Reaching out, Dean hesitated for a moment before laying his hands on Sam’s shoulders, keeping him there. “Look, you told me you were in love with me, then you half-kissed me. And I still held you all night, didn’t I? Maybe you want me to freak out, send you away because it would make it easier for you or something but I’m not going to okay? So we don’t have to talk to about it if that’s easier, whatever you want, but I’m not going anywhere okay?”

Tears burned along the edges of Sam's eyes and he frowned and looked down. _God_ , he really didn't deserve a brother like Dean. Nodding slowly he dragged a hand down his face and sniffed. "Okay."

“So we’re good, right?” Dean asked softly, squeezing Sam’s shoulders. “Because we have to be, especially now.” He smiled at his brother, satisfied to leave it at this. For now. It wouldn’t be escaping all the thoughts in his mind but at least he and Sam could be okay.

“Yeah.” Sam’s voice was rough and he coughed again and drank some more water. “Yeah, we’re good. I’m sick but we’re good.” He gave Dean a half smile and leaned forward a little into his brother’s hands.

“Teach you to drink so much and pass up on pizza to soak it up.” Dean smirked, sliding his hand over to palm the side of Sam’s head. “Need a break then? We can take a few minutes.” He dropped down on his ass, flinching at the rock digging into his jeans.

“I’ll be okay.” But Sam sat down on his ass and kicked dirt over what was left of his stomach contents. “How long you think it’s gonna take us to get there?”

“We’ll be there by tonight at the latest, I think. Might be best, give us a chance to find where they are when they’re not around.” Dean picked at the rocks around him, lifting one and chucking it out into the street. “What could that money be for Sam? You don’t think Dad was in some trouble do you?”

Shaking his head, Sam rubbed at his forehead. “Dean, how did he end up hunting these vampires? What lead up to all of this?” Sam found himself wondering if there wasn’t some kind of connection.

“He never said. When he called he just said he needed some back up. I was surprised because I hadn’t heard from him for months, you know?” Dean frowned and lifted his shoulders in a shrug. “He never returned my calls.” The _either_ was there, hanging between them but Dean pushed past it. “So of course when he said he needed my help I dropped everything and went to him. Then he explained the vampire pack, how there were too many. Then he just said he needed to check out a few sources and disappeared for almost a day. And then... well, you know the rest. But I know what you’re thinking, there has to be a connection between it all.” Dean sighed and scrubbed his dirty fingers over his jeans. “Just don’t know what. If you’re feeling up to it you can check out his journal while I drive.”

“Sure, I can do that.” Sam was glad to have something constructive to concentrate on. “Come on, I keep slowin’ us down.” Sam groaned and climbed up slowly to his feet.

“I don’t mind,” Dean said softly and stood up. He hesitated for a moment before pulling Sam in, hugging him before he had a chance to protest. “I missed you Sam,” he said quietly, wondering at the heat of his brother’s body and why it felt just the slightest bit different this time around.

Sam gave in a little, something inside of him bending a little closer to breaking. His arms slid around Dean’s neck and he took a shuddering breath. “I missed you, too - _so_ much.” As much as it hurt to be close to Dean sometimes, this was good. Sam had always felt better next to Dean, with Dean, _fuck_ anywhere _remotely close_ Dean was better than being away from him.

“God. I know.” Dean chuckled hoarsely and gripped Sam just a little tighter. “Never again, okay? Don’t shut me out like that again.” No matter what he might know now, any little secrets Sam may have kept buried, it wasn’t worth losing their closeness. “I need you now more than ever.” Dean whispered the words, closing his eyes as he felt the _loss_ he’d been struggling with for two days now. And maybe longer but he couldn’t say.

Pressing his lips together Sam resisted the urge to turn his face into his brother’s neck. “Yeah, okay. I’m not goin’ anywhere.” Those were kind of like the magic words that bound Sam to his brother. _I need you._

When Dean pulled back it was slightly reluctant and he stared at Sam for a long moment before leaning forward and pressing a small kiss to his cheek. Before Sam could react in any way Dean stepped away and headed around for the driver’s side, ignoring the way his heart was beating just slightly faster.

After the car was started once more and Sam was settled in beside him, Dean glanced over and half smiled. “I read everything by Poe. Because I thought our lives were fucked up enough I might be amused. It actually was all just kind of depressing.” Dean shifted the car into drive, pushing down on the gas pedal and chuckling softly.

Sam turned to stare across at his brother, wondering if he’d ever known him all that well. Smiling, he shook his head slowly and picked up their Dad’s journal to start searching for some kind of information.

Dean sank down in the seat; even if it was dark out he couldn’t help wanting to be as invisible as he could. From their viewpoint he could see the vampires milling around outside a club, probably looking for their next victims. Dean was still having issues determining how young or old they might be, how aware they would be of being watched.

Sliding across the seat, Dean pressed into Sam’s side, keeping his voice low. “I’m exhausted,” he murmured, dropping his head to Sam’s shoulder. They’d talked on and off throughout the drive but mostly it had been silent and Dean had processed a lot of thoughts. So many. They wore him out more than he thought possible. Mostly though, Dean had decided he wanted to be closer to Sam and that seemed like the most important thing in his world at the moment. Minus the vampires they were watching.

Shifting slightly, a little nervous, Sam chewed on his bottom lip for a while. “You can sleep if you want. I’ll watch. Climb in the back.” It wasn’t that Sam didn’t like being near Dean - the problem was that he liked it too much and didn’t want to get used to it.

“Sorry. This- sorry.” Dean pushed up and slid away. That was just…kind of mean. Because he wasn’t at a point where he could give Sam what he wanted and he shouldn’t rub it in his face. “I’m fine. We should get a map of the city or something, you know, just to see if we can guess where they might be staying and beat them there. Or just wait until tomorrow.” He was fumbling over words now because it surprisingly _hurt_ not to be pressed up against Sam. Regarding that, he just didn’t know what it meant anymore.

“Dean. Stop.” Sam shifted on the seat so he was facing his brother. “Just... can you just act like you always have? See. This - I mean this is what I was worried about. That every time we touched or got too close it would be weird, you know?”

“Hey. I didn’t move because I know how you feel about me. I moved because I didn’t want you to feel worse.” Dean sighed and thought about how to explain things to his brother. “Sam,” he turned his gaze away, staring out at the vampires still grouped together across the street. “I’ve spent the last year alone. I know I probably seem different to you, I’ve had some time to change. I just, maybe I’ve missed touching someone who knows me, you know?” He lifted his shoulder and dropped it back down. “But whatever. I’ll try to be more like I once was.”

Sighing, Sam turned his eyes back to the vampires. “Whaddya think they’re doing? Trying to find someone to-” He swallowed and dropped his gaze for a few moments. He was still stuck in that place where the loss of his Father would slam into him full force. There was no way he could even begin to guess what it must be like for Dean.

“Who knows,” Dean whispered, as he folded his arms across his chest and leaned against the other door. Some bitter little voice in his head said something like, _for someone who’s supposedly in love with me he sure doesn’t seem to care much about me_ , but he shook the thought away. Dean was starting to feel a little like they weren’t even close to being the brothers they’d once been. “You want to follow them? I think I’m going to walk back to the motel.”

“What?” Sam looked over at his brother. “I thought we were gonna follow them back to the nest. Do you think we need to do some more-” Sam wasn’t quite sure what Dean thought.

“We’ll find the nest and go there in the day to take care of them. This time we’ll block the exit so they can’t get out and we’ll catch one so we can find out some answers they might have about dad,” Dean said flatly; at least he had settled his mind on that subject, the right way to handle the vampires. “But we won’t go in tonight, so you could follow them and you won’t have to put up with me.” Dean shrugged, turning in the seat to reach in back for his bag.

“Have I done something wrong?” Sam stared over at Dean with his mouth open slightly, brows furrowed. “I don’t understand. I never said anything about not wanting you here.” Sam ran over the conversation in his head trying to figure out what the _hell_ he had done.

“I know, Sam. You never said anything at all.” Dean blinked over at him, watching the street light catch on his hair, making it shine. This should be easier. Dean’s mind shouldn’t be causing him to react like a thirteen year old girl starved for attention. _Starved for attention_. That was basically what it was.

Reaching out, Dean curled his fingers around the back of his brother’s neck and pulled him forward, letting his head naturally tilt to the side so their lips could brush together. Dean could taste the chicken Sam had for dinner and the hint of coffee from the gas station an hour ago. His fingers curved against Sam’s skull, pressing just slightly harder against the soft touch of lips.

Sam's entire body shuddered as Dean's lips pressed against his. Letting out an almost-whimper he struggled to pull back. "Dean, don't- please." If his brother was doing this out of some sick sense of responsibility or guilt it was going to just smack Sam to pieces. He couldn't take it anymore. No more close, no more almost touches. Panting softly, Sam rolled his forehead against his brother's. "Please."

“I don’t understand.” Dean dropped his hand, sunk back into the seat and looked away. “I thought you wanted me.” He hated how pathetic that sounded, like somehow he couldn’t want Sam if Sam wasn’t the one wanting him first. If it came down to that, which maybe it did.

"Jesus _Christ_ , Dean. I do. I told you the truth. It's why I left. And you doing this out of some weird older brother kind of - _fuck_ \- you don't owe me anything! I'm not screwed up because of you I’m screwed up because of me. And you’ll do this - you’ll kiss me or ... we’ll. And then it’ll be gone.” Sam’s hands were shaking and he rubbed at one palm with the other hand. “I can’t. Having it and then losing it? That would be so much worse than never having it.”

Tears welled in Sam’s eyes and he turned to stare back out through the windshield. The problem was that he couldn’t actually see much through the blur of tears.. “We should go-”

“Shut up, Sam,” Dean snapped, cutting him off before they could stop talking about what they needed to be talking about currently. What was it with their lives? “Do you really think I’d do that? We may be twisted, we may have a fucked up life, but not even being the world’s greatest big brother would have me kissing you if I didn’t _want_ to. I may be a lot of things but I’m not that, I wouldn’t fuck with you like that because if you say you’re in love then you mean it and I know how serious you take that. So just, don’t think that about me, alright? I wouldn’t fuck with you like that.”

Wiping angrily at the tears on his face, Sam glanced over at his brother. “Okay. Okay. I’m sorry. Fuck. It’s not like I know how to deal with this.” Sam hadn’t meant to speak so loudly and he blinked a few times, a little startled by the sound of his own voice in the car.

“I’ve been thinking non-stop since you told me last night. I keep turning everything over, trying to figure out why I’m not freaking out, trying to figure out why I want to figure out more about... whatever. This. Us. Whatever.” Dean pinched at the bridge of his nose, sighing heavily before looking away. “I won’t do anything more if you don’t want me to. You know I’ll always put you first.”

“I can’t keep doing this. I just. I can’t. We need to-” Sam looked out the front window again and managed to focus on the vampires. “This is dangerous. We’re not even paying attention. Dean, what the hell? Let’s just call it a night. We know where they are. They’re not going to be leaving town tonight.” Sam reached down below his seat for his water bottle. His throat felt like he’d been swallowing sand.

Dean didn’t even try finding something to say in response. Sam was right, the vampires weren’t going anywhere tonight. They’d have just as much luck finding them tomorrow, and apparently whatever discussion he was hoping to have was officially done. So he started up the car and drove silently to the motel across town that they’d stopped at just long enough earlier to secure a room. Half a dozen times he opened his mouth, trying to say something, anything, but chickened out and closed his mouth instead.

Parking in front of their door, Dean grabbed his bag and headed inside without waiting for Sam, going through his usual routine of kicking off his boots and shrugging off his coat. Everything spoke of normality, though Dean thought that maybe a couple of days ago he’d somehow stepped into an alternate universe where he had to kill his vampire father and try not to be disappointed that the brother that was in love with him didn’t want to pursue things.

It was probably the door slamming as Sam entered the room that was the final straw on the entire ridiculously-absurd insanity of his life. “Oh, fuck this,” Dean snapped, nearly growling the words and crossed the room in three quick strides, slamming his brother back against the door to crush their lips together, fingers tightening in the front of his shirt.

Sam's hands flew up to press against his brother's chest but he was off-balance and slipped sideways back against the door. He reached up and grabbed Dean's hair, tugging hard to try to pull him back, but couldn’t stop his own moans from escaping.. _’Dean’_ was the only thing running through his mind. His lips parted to try and drag in a breath of air and Dean just pressed harder, _more_. A growl in Sam's chest changed into a moan, halfway out of his mouth and was swallowed up by Dean; Sam's grip loosened on his brother's hair. Tears streaked down his face again and he sagged forward, almost falling against Dean's body.

Dean’s fingers slid up from Sam’s chest to his head, coming across to slide along his cheeks. He pulled back a little, panting, lips kiss-swollen and tingling from the intensity of their kiss; he was checking to make sure he hadn’t hurt his brother. Then he was pulling him in again, taking advantage of Sam’s open mouth to snake his tongue forward. Pulling Sam back from the door, Dean guided them backward across the room, shoving his hands under his brother’s jacket, pushing it down off his shoulders. Sam’s mouth was overheated and sugar-sweet from coffee, then there was the taste of his brother - this Dean knew though he’d never experienced it before.

Sam didn’t know what to do with his hands. He wanted them everywhere on his brother’s body but hadn’t quite lost that feeling that if he touched Dean - it would all stop - everything would go back to being the way it was. Maybe it was a dream.

Finally feeling that bend inside him, the _need_ outweighing the _should_ , Sam slid shaking hands up under his brother’s jacket, fingers just barely daring to touch the fabric of his brother’s shirt. Leaning forward, he pressed closer to Dean, feeling the strength of his brother pushing back at him. His tongue slipped forward to tangle with Dean’s as they both struggled for control of the kiss.

It was a little alarming to realize how painfully _hard_ Dean was, just from kissing. From kissing _Sam_. So strong and tall and very much his brother. Dean was going to hell - for so many reasons - but damn if he wasn’t going to enjoy this while he could. Because he _wanted_ it and even if he’d never realized it before, now it seemed startling clear, like he should have known years ago.

“Want,” Dean gasped as he tore back from the kiss, hands fluttering down Sam’s neck, across his shoulders, along his sides. “Please Sam.” He stared into his brother’s eyes, panting heavily, fingers idly working along the bottom button on his brother’s shirt.

Sam’s expression softened, his eyes closing for a moment as he soaked up the sound of his brother’s voice. _Want_. It was something he could do without a second thought. “I’ve wanted you for so long it’s like breathing.”

His stomach muscles clenched as Dean’s fingers moved from one button to another, slowly. “I don’t know how to not want you.” Sam’s fingers moved to shove his brother’s shirt up, fingers finally reaching the heat of Dean’s skin. Sam’s lashes fluttered closed again and he leaned forward, instinct guiding him to reclaims Dean’s lips.

When Dean moaned into the kiss he was no longer surprised. Sam’s fingers were long and thick on his chest, sliding over too-sensitive skin and shoving up. He stepped back long enough for Sam to pull up his shirt before reaching out for Sam’s, tugging it up over his head and send it to join his own. “I want you,” he murmured, parting his lips along Sam’s neck and sucking along his skin. “God Sam, I want you so much.” It was building with each moment and the taste of Sam’s skin only added to the pleasure. His hands slid down Sam’s chest, fingers pressing along his waistline.

Hearing that made Sam's heart lurch a little in his chest. Dropping his gaze he followed his own hand as it trailed down his brother's neck and along his collarbone, thumb brushing over freckle after freckle. "Dean, I-" It felt like all of his emotions were stopped up in Sam's chest, choking him, and the ache in the pit of his stomach flared one last time. It was all a risk - _this giving in_ \- because Dean could offer Sam the world and take it all away again. But those words. _I want you so much-_ Tilting his head, Sam pulled his brother's head closer, pressing the heat of that mouth harder against his skin.

The warmth of metal slid through Dean’s fingers and he pushed the button free from his brother’s jeans, pulling at the zipper a moment later. “Gonna tell me to stop?” Dean murmured along his skin, scraping teeth along Sam’s collar bone, feeling the heat of his arousal through the now-open fly of his jeans. Just a slight push forward and Dean could graze over the hard line of his brother’s cock through his boxers, lips working along heated skin, sucking until he could mark the spot.

"No." Sam breathed out the word long and low as his hips shifted forward just enough for Dean's fingers to make contact with his body. Shuddering, Sam felt his knees weaken and wrapped his arms around his brother's neck. Clinging to those broad shoulders, he managed to hold himself up as enough heat shot through his body that it felt like he was just melting away into nothing. "Please," he whispered and dragged his open mouth through his brother's hair.

Dean hooked his fingers along Sam’s waistline and pushed down, stepping back so Sam could kick off his boots and jeans. While Dean watched, he slid his own clothing off, letting the fabric drop to his feet. Then they were both bare, standing face to face. Dean took a long minute to map out all the ways Sam had grown and changed since the last time he’d seen him naked; it had to have been years. Sam was hard, cock red, swollen and curving up to his stomach and Dean’s eyes lingered there for a moment past too long before he was looking up at his brother, catching him staring as well.

“This is really happening isn’t it?” he asked quietly, small smile on his lips, taking a step forward and reaching out for Sam. “You’ve really grown into something gorgeous, Sam,” he murmured, sliding his fingers down along his brother’s side.

Sam had spent most of his life looking at Dean. He knew the body in front of him, but he'd only just imagined what the smooth skin stretched over muscle would feel like. His rough palms rasped up his brother's arm and he frowned and shook his head. "Nothin' like you. _God_ \- you don't know..." Dipping his head down shyly, Sam let his eyes drag down his brother's body. His fingers were drawn almost automatically to the smooth jut of bone at Dean's hip and he traced the long line for a few moments.

“Sam,” Dean murmured and stepped forward, pressing in closer, hands sliding around to graze along his brother’s lower back. “What do you want?” He backed Sam up a step, nudging him toward the bed, pulling him in so their lips could meet once more. He really liked the taste of Sam, he could get used to kissing him, a lot, and as often as possible.

Sam liked that feeling of being enclosed in Dean's arms. His body was alive with all the press and glide of flesh against his. Turning slightly, he hissed when his swollen shaft rubbed past his brother's leg. "Anything, this...just this is fine." Sam was panting, his body seizing on the sensation of being so close to Dean. “Anything,” he whispered again and sank down onto the bed.

Blinking up at Dean for a few moments Sam dragged his hands down the man’s sides then curved them around the cup his ass. It was firm from the strength of Dean’s muscles, so evident everywhere that Sam touched. Moaning softly, he leaned forward slowly, eyes still riveted to his brother’s and then parted his lips to press a gentle kiss to the flesh by his belly button.

“God.” Dean sucked in a slow breath, body instantly curving out toward Sam’s lips, warm and slick along his skin. As he rolled back he pressed against Sam’s hands, enjoying the way they held him, kept him in place. When he looked down his eyes met Sam’s again for a moment and he thought of all the years when Sam was shorter than him and Dean always had to look down. This was nothing like that, this was sparks of pleasure and want and Dean couldn’t believe it had taken so long for him to realize that this was what he wanted.

Sam inched his way across his brother's body, lips tingling as they crossed each patch of undiscovered skin. Dean tasted sweet, salty, and Sam felt like there was a hunger in him that was for those flavours alone. Sucking in deep breaths of warm air tinged with his brother's scent, Sam blew them out, trying desperately to calm himself down. He drew an arm across his brother's thigh then ran the palm flat against Dean's abs. They rippled under his touch and then Sam turned into the heat of his brother's shaft. Heat radiated from the man's swollen flesh and Sam moaned, trembling slightly where he leaned against his brother's hip. His tongue flicked out to lap at the side of Dean's cock, small licks, tasting, learning, and his fingers tightened until his nails were digging into the taut flesh of Dean's belly.

A rush of pleasure coursed through Dean and his knees dipped slightly, eyes fluttering closed at the barely-there licks. _God_ , this was Sam, _tasting him_. Dean felt a rush of warmth strong enough to make his eyes open once more, fingers threading through Sam’s hair, moan falling from his lips as he watched Sam’s tongue slide out from between kiss-swollen lips and graze over his cock. “God Sam, so good.” He whispered the words, voice tight and low, hips swaying forward just slightly for more.

Dean's words slid down Sam's body and settled in his hips. The heat in him blazed hotter and his heart started pounding loudly in his ears. He couldn't believe Dean was letting this happen, couldn't believe it was his brother's flesh that was so smooth and hot under his hands. It was _almost_ too much and certainly not enough and Sam's hand was suddenly around his brother's cock. Sam moaned, squeezing the girth. The weight of it in his hand was intoxicating, rich, and his body was buzzing as pleasure stirred in every part of him.

Parting his lips, Sam gazed up at Dean again, taking in the smile, the darkening of his brother’s eyes. Stretching up, he sucked gently on the head of Dean’s cock, moaning softly when the flavour of his brother’s released just nipped at the edges of his senses.

Whether Sam had done this before or not Dean couldn’t say but he was certainly skilled enough to have Dean shuddering from just the barest of touches. As wet heat encased him, sinking down lower and lower over his cock, it took all of Dean’s control not to thrust his hips up into his brother’s mouth. “Fuck Sammy,” he gasped, head dropping back as his body swayed forward. Dean thought he could feel every little touch along his length, the flick of Sam’s tongue, the small vibration from a moan. His fingers tightened in his brother’s hair and he lost out against the desire to gently thrust forward, sinking further into delicious heat.

Keening softly, Sam's hands moved quickly to press against his brother's hips. Sucking in air through his nose, he tried to draw Dean's cock deeper. His eyes watered at the invasion, throat threatening to clench and Sam pulled back for a moment, only to slide forward again. Dean's hips rolled toward him and Sam moaned around the mouthful of flesh. When his teeth grazed the almost scalding cock he felt his brother stiffen, then heard another husky moan slip past his brother's lips.

Relaxing his throat, Sam pushed forward, lips tight and wet against his brother’s shaft. He’d thought about this, his brother’s flesh in his mouth, sucking and working him, but this was so different. _So real._

“Perfect,” Dean murmured, moaning once more at the slick heat, then cool of the room when Sam slid back. He lost himself in each new wave of pleasure, Sam finding his pace, picking up speed, bobbing his head and moaning like this was the best thing he’d ever felt. Dean’s head rolled along his shoulders, heart rate picking up speed as he came closer and closer to the edge. Forcing his eyes open, he watched Sam’s lips slide over his skin - his little brother - sucking him so eagerly.

“M’close.” Dean grunted a warning, nails digging into Sam’s scalp, hips moving forward out of his control now. But he wanted to come down Sam’s throat, wanted to know that this was what his brother wanted. Those thoughts were all it took to have his orgasm pushing up through him, lips parting around a gasped moan of his brother’s name.

Sam's entire body jolted when his brother's come splashed hot and thick against the back of his throat. Pulling back, he sucked and licked, enjoying every single sensation, taste, and the moans still leaving his brother's mouth.

Finally, gasping for air, he choked slightly and pulled back, fingers still curled round the base of Dean's cock. Sam raised his eyes and gazed up at Dean from under his bangs and panted softly. There was come, _Fuck_ , dribbling down the side of his chin and Sam reached up to catch it with a finger tip and draw it back into his mouth.

“Jesus, that’s hot.” Dean half laughed, half moaned at the sight of his brother licking come off of his finger. Pushing forward, he hooked his arms under Sam’s and dragged him back onto the bed, covering him in one quick movement. Dean crushed his lips hard against Sam’s, thrusting his tongue forward to chase after the taste of himself, rolling enough to the side so he could curl his fingers around his brother’s cock and squeeze.

Hips thrusting up quickly, Sam moaned. His fingers clawed hard at his brother's back as the throb in his balls intensified. The kiss took his breath away and Sam could only groan softly and thrust up wildly into his brother's grasp.

No warning - too many long years of _wanting_ \- and Sam's release pumped out of him as his entire body shuddered. There was no way to stop moving his lips, roughed up and bruised under the weight of his brother's kiss, and Sam just gave back what he could as wave after exquisite wave of bliss swelled over him.

Feeling Sam fall apart at his touch was enough to have Dean’s cock twitching again with renewed interest. He moaned into the kiss, stroking Sam until he melted down into the mattress and whimpered softly. Dean pulled his hand back and shifted the sticky come between his fingers. Pulling back from the kiss slowly, Dean smiled down at his brother and brought his hand up, licking at his palm. “Hot,” he murmured, dipping down to gently kiss Sam once more.

“God, Dean,” Sam hissed. His heart was still thudding away - his reminder that he was alive, not dreaming, not dead - or Sam never would have believed it. Closing his eyes, he rubbed at his face and then let his arm fall back to Dean’s hip. There was still that tiny, nearly-silent part of him that believed this might change once Dean realized what he’d done.

“Thank you,” he murmured. Blinking his eyes wide again Sam shifted closer and tilted his chin up to brush their lips together once more, soft and gentle this time.

“You thankin’ me for letting you suck my cock?” Dean chuckled softly, slanting his lips over Sam’s for another lingering kiss.

Nodding, Sam finally let himself laugh a little and curled his arm around his brother’s neck. “Jus’ bein’ polite.”

“Infamous Winchester manners,” Dean murmured sleepily, and closed his eyes. For right now they could be okay and tomorrow they’d face the real world.


	4. Chapter 4

Dean woke up before Sam, both curled together above the blankets in the motel room. He couldn’t help but smile, remembering the night before and the newness that it meant for them. There was probably more to discuss, more to figure out, but for now he could relax in the easy peace of _them_. Climbing out of bed, Dean made quick work of the bathroom before snatching a clean pair of boxers and Sam’s laptop from the table.

Glasses in place on the bridge of his nose, he used some of the skills he’d picked up over the past year to access a map of the town. While Sam continued to sleep at his side, Dean adjusted on the bed and began comparing the locations that the bodies had been found to the town map, narrowing down places the vampires could be hiding. By the time Sam stirred beside him he had a list of four abandoned buildings for them to check out, which was far better than what they’d had before.

“Mornin’,” he said softly when Sam blinked up at him, reaching out to brush hair back from his face.

“Hi.” Sam thought about catching Dean’s hand with his; he didn’t. Licking his lips nervously, he smiled. “You’re still here. I had this theory...”

“What? That I’d just go?” Dean arched an eyebrow and set the laptop to the side, shifting down to stare eye to eye with his brother. “Wouldn’t do that.”

Smiling, Sam dropped his gaze, still a bit unsure of how much he wanted to see reflected in his brother’s face. “That or I would wake up and you’d be in your bed and you were gonna pretend it never happened or worse.” Sam’s faced scrunched up slightly into a grimace.

“Ah. Yeah. That sounds like you to think that.” Dean’s lips quirked in a slight smile. He reached out to press his brother’s nose with his finger tip, smirking at him. “Stop being such a spaz, dude.” Naturally, Sam would over-think everything; they weren’t going to make it through this whole thing if Sam kept over-thinking it.

“Well, there was a worse possibility.” Sam tilted his head, a puzzled expressed creeping onto his face. Lifting a hand, he rubbed at the end of his nose.

“Which was?” Dean pursed his lips slightly, wishing Sam would smile back at him. His brother was already adjusted to the idea of liking Dean but he looked closer to freaking out than Dean, who had discovered in twenty four hours that incest was apparently hot.

“That none of it was real, that I’d wake up and find out it was like, some crazy dream.” Sam finally allowed himself a real smile and curled his hand over his brother’s wrist. “This is a bit real, right?”

“More than a bit,” Dean murmured and shifted closer, brushing his lips against Sam’s. “Also, I have some places for us to check out. Want to shower first?” He shifted closer, half rolling onto his brother, pressing him down into the mattress.

 _That_ took Sam’s breath away. “You know how much I-” Sam didn’t really want to go backwards anymore. There were things he was sure that his brother didn’t understand. The way that Dean could just be _sitting_ there on the laptop like it was the most natural thing in the world was so foreign to Sam.

“What is it Sam? You gotta freak out for awhile?” Dean sighed softly and pushed up, hands digging into the mattress. “I always did accept the abnormal easier than you. Just thought, since you felt this way for so long you’d be excited for this.” Dean tilted his head slightly, peering down at his brother.

“No, I. I don’t think you know how much I’ve wanted this.” Sam reached up to slide his hand over the back of his brother’s neck. “Dean, since that summer I’ve kind of measured everything against _you_ , the way I felt around you, the way that you smiled at me and so many other things. I’ve compared everyone to that. And now, you’re _right_ here and my brain is having trouble keeping up with my heart.” Sam frowned, not sure he had even made sense.

“It’s just going to take time. You’ll believe it. I’ll make you believe it.” Dean smiled softly and shifted to trace along the downward curve of Sam’s lips with his thumb. “Just give it that. And you know, talk to me. All that stuff. Only try not to use your brain too much cause it’s fuckin’ early and you’re making my head hurt, too.” He chuckled softly and dipped down to bump their noses together.

Sam leaned up quickly and pressed _too_ hard into a kiss. His lips parted and in spite of the thumping warning of his heart he closed his eyes and lingered there. Each sweep of his lips sent a spray of tingles down his neck and he shivered slightly.

Sinking down onto his brother’s body, Dean shifted over him, legs falling to either side of his hips as his lips parted, tongues brushing together. Moaning softly he rocked his body forward, sliding his hand up through Sam’s hair. “Gonna shower with me?” he murmured into the kiss, laughing at the thought of them fitting in the shower together.

“I can?” Sam’s eyes widened slightly and his hands slid down to the small of Dean’s back.

“Yeah. You can.” Dean laughed quietly at him and rocked forward once more before climbing back off the bed, heading for the bathroom. “But only if you get your lazy ass out of bed.”

Flinging the covers back Sam shot across the room into the bathroom ahead of his brother.

It probably took far longer to get ready than it should have. Sam couldn’t stop touching his brother’s flesh in the shower. He soaped them up and let their bodies slide together, slick and over-heated. If they were losing time he found it hard to care. Things had changed a little inside of his head - settled somehow - accepted.

When they finally dragged themselves out of the bathroom Sam’s fingers were pruned from the hot water. He poked at them and tried to remember the last time he’d spent that much time in the water. Maybe the lake - _And God_ \- that place would always make his heart ache.

Maybe now the ache would be different.

The car was hot when they slid into it, taking their respective sides. How quickly they had fallen back into the routine of Dean driving, Sam riding shot gun. The radio would flip on and they would tear out of the parking lot. If things were just a little different Sam could have believed that he had never left the hunting life.

But he had. And they were. Hunting. Dean had done a good job identifying the buildings the vampires might be nesting in. “So, what’s our _actual_ plan?”

“We need to keep at least one; the strongest one is probably going to know the most. We have to grill him about dad and the money, just in case.” Dean smiled over at Sam and shrugged. It was strange how the desire to avenge his father’s death had waned slightly in response to everything that had transpired between himself and Sam. But it was still there and these vampires weren’t going to live past today. Not if he had any control over it.

“So we go in, figure out which one is the leader, so to speak, and kill the other three. Then we find out about dad, hopefully get the information we need. Then we kill the leader, too. Should be easy.” _Should_ be didn’t necessarily mean it would be but well, they could try.

“The money.” Sam had gotten so wrapped up in the fact that his brother _wanted_ him that he’d almost completely forgotten about it. “The leader,” he murmured. Realizing it sounded like he was speaking in code Sam shifted to face Dean. “When we were- when dad... The guy that ran out first, big guy, long black hair and a weird ass patch on the back of his jacket. Maybe him?”

“Could be. Let’s assume it’s him for now. So we want to knock him out. Wish we had some dead man’s blood, it would be good for this situation. Dean scraped his lower lip between his teeth and rolled his shoulders back. “We’re going to the furthest warehouse out, like the place they chose last time. I’m thinkin’ it’ll be that one. So you want the two other guys? I can take the girl and get the big one bound? Or you okay with the girl?” Dean knew she could likely be just as strong but Sam would be the kind to have more of a struggle killing girls of any sort.

Frowning, Sam looked out the window and picked up his machete. “Two guys.” He ran his finger along the edge of the blade. “Girl’s likely his mate.”

“I was thinkin’ that.” Dean nodded, knowing killing either would send the other into more violent actions. Reaching out he squeezed Sam’s thigh and left his hand there, and they fell into silence as they drove through town.

The warehouse wasn’t hidden very well and Dean could see the familiar vehicles the vampires had used before. He’d guessed right. Pulling up to a stop far enough away to not be heard, Dean killed the engine and looked over at his brother. “I got your back if you’ve got mine.” He smiled at him, thinking of the times when Sam and he were first hunting alone, the rituals they always went through.

Grinning, Sam swatted at his hair with his free hand. “Got yours.” Turning, he reached for the door handle then turned back slightly. “You know that. If something happens. This was good... okay? I mean it was...” Sam sighed.

“Don’t Sam. Come on, we don’t do that thing. No goodbyes.” Dean scrunched his face up slightly and leaned forward, lips passing across Sam’s. “We can do this. They’ll be sleeping, it’ll be like last time.” He was hoping it would be that easy.

Nodding. Sam pushed the smile back onto his face and slipped out of the car quietly. It had come back to him so quickly; the silent moving, nodded communication and monitoring his brother’s breathing. They moved side by side through the daylight, careful to keep themselves as hidden as possible.

The warehouse had seen better days but Dean was right, the place was far enough outside the town to be quiet and close enough for hunting. Sam could feel the adrenaline start to pump through his body as they approached the side door of the building.

Dean’s heart was already racing but he kept it controlled with slow breaths, ears well-trained on the noises coming from inside. As far as he could tell they were asleep. Sliding to the opposite side of the door, Dean pushed up and peered in through the window, unable to see anyone inside. He met Sam’s eyes for a moment before nodding, pushing forward to grasp the door and slowly inch it open.

The warehouse was broken down, appearing empty of vampires as he took his first steps in. This was good and bad. The vampires might be sleeping in separate places which would be easier to take down but Dean wouldn’t be able to watch Sam. His eyes slid down one hallway to the next, machete gripped tight in his hand. It felt weird to be holding the weapon again; it wasn’t the one that he had used before but Dean would never see the weapon again without thinking about their father.

Jerking his head down the hall, Dean led Sam that way, eyes skittering to the side into a room where one vampire was passed out on a mattress. It wasn’t one of the ones he was meant to take care of so he met Sam’s eyes and nodded at him before continuing down the hallway.

They had a few advantages and Sam planned to keep as many as possible. He made hardly a sound as he slipped across the filthy floor to stand over the young vampire’s body. They always looked so _human_ asleep, but there was still the memory of his father's dead body to make sure Sam never fell for that again. Filling his lungs slowly, Sam raised the machete and sliced it down in a neat arch. Just like the time before the sharp blade sliced through the flesh and ground through the bone. The head was severed almost straight through and Sam quickly stepped back from the growing pool of dark blood at his feet.

There was a rustle behind him and Sam whirled to sweep his gaze across the empty room. Empty except for the vampire approaching from the shadows on Sam's left. Widening his stance he felt his top lip curl up into a half snarl as the young man approached him. There was a sneer on the vampire’s face and it only darkened when his lifeless gaze moved to the mutilated body behind Sam.

"That was my friend."

Sam tightened his grip on the machete. "You killed my father."

The vampire laughed darkly. "Actually, no I did-"

And Sam was on him. The machete missed the first time, glancing off the vampire’s shoulder and sliding down to slice into the meaty flesh of his forearm.

The vampire let out a deep howl of pain or anger, Sam didn't take the time to find out. He swung the machete back up and as he darted to the side to get out of the way of the vampire’s fist, he was able to bring the blade down _right_ on its mark. The skin was tougher, hair tugging back at the blade but it did the trick. Blood splashed cold and thick down the vampire’s jacket and onto Sam's face. He swayed once and as Sam yanked the blade back the lifeless body crumpled to the ground.

Taking a few deep shuddering breaths Sam wiped at his face with the bottom of his sleeve then turned quickly to follow Dean’s path down the hallway.

The male and female vampires were in the last room at the end of the hallway and Dean was thankful that they weren’t curled together. He’d rather not wake them both right away. Killing women sucked, he always hated it, but his mind provided the image of that woman bent over his father’s frame and that was motivation enough to get him moving.

Heart picking up speed in his chest, Dean walked around the mattress and stopped at the side, watching the female shift on the bed like she couldn’t keep still in her sleep. He knew that the minute she was dead the other would wake up, so he couldn’t miss the first shot. Lifting the machete, Dean slowly shifted forward and drove the blade down, slicing through air and severing flesh and bone.

He hardly had a moment to breathe before the girl’s mate on the bed was launching up and sending him flying across the wall, pinning him there. “Fuck,” Dean grunted, half a laugh as he kicked at the vampire. “M’sorry, did I kill your toy?”

“I should have known you would be back. Human _filth_.” The vampire spat and stumbled back with a grunt of his own when Dean lurched forward.

As Dean spun the machete in his grasp the vampire’s fist connected with his jaw, causing him to stumble back and gasp. “Asshole.” Dean snorted, rubbing at the mark for a moment before lifting the butt of the machete and driving it down into the vampire’s skull, weakening him long enough for Dean to push forward and wrap his arm around its middle.

Sam appeared in the doorway and Dean, grunting, pushed the vampire that way. “Get ropes.” He felt something slick and wet on the back of his neck and he wondered for a moment just how hard the vampire had slammed him into the wall.

Rushing back to the side door, Sam returned as fast as he could with ropes and skidded to a halt just behind his brother. Slinging the ropes out beside them, Sam wound them _far_ too tight around the vampires’s wrists and wrenched his arms back to hold them while Dean caught his breath. “Dean? You good?”

“Peachy.” Dean grunted and stepped back, kicking at the vampire until he dropped down onto the ground. “Alright, let’s get him awake, get some answers and finish this.” That sounded like a fantastic plan. Stepping back out of Sam’s view Dean lifted a hand to the back of his head and frowned at the blood that came back on his fingers before clearing his throat. “You wanna start or me?”

“Feel free.” Sam dropped to his haunches within striking distance of the vampire. He’d lost enough; there was no way this creature would get anywhere near his brother again.

Pulling on the ties, Dean lifted the vampire until he was up on his knees, swaying heavily toward one side. “Come on fucker, wake up.” Dean shook him hard, rolling his eyes when the vampire blinked his eyes open and groaned. “Shut up, you’re a vampire, you can’t seriously expect me to believe you’re in pain.”

Heaving the vampire up to his feet, Dean pushed him hard against the wall and slammed him there, eyes narrowing. “Tell me how you knew my dad. What did he want from you?”

The vampire turned his head to face Dean and pulled back, spitting a large dollop of saliva into Dean’s face. Dean groaned, slinging the vampire to the ground and using his foot on the creature’s chest to keep him in place while he wiped at the spit. “Listen, my brother and I? We’re the last people you want as your enemies, and considering you killed our dad, it’d be best for you not to piss us off further. Because either way you’re dying; you just get to chose if it happens quick or if we keep you around for awhile to find out what we want to know.”

“I don’t know anything,” the vampire spat, squirming under Dean’s foot.

Bending down, Dean flipped the vampire onto his stomach and dug a knee hard into his back, reaching for the machete not too far across the bed. “See, I think you’re lying. And I’m really not in the mood to be lied to. So tell me what my dad wanted with you. What do you have?”

When the vampire showed no interest in talking Dean used the blade to trace a line down his back, severing the clothes there and bringing blood to the surface. The vampire squirmed and struggled under the assault but kept his silence.

“You know the only way I can kill you is cutting your head off? That doesn’t mean I can’t starve you. Do you have any clue what it’ll be like when there’s no blood left in your body? I don’t think you’re ready for that type of pain.” Dean was working on pure adrenaline now. He couldn’t look at Sam because his brother had never seen him torture someone like this and he didn’t want it to change the way he looked at Dean. But this information could be vital.

Beneath him the vampire cursed, squirming still as Dean sliced him once more along the back, fabric tearing, skin prickling with blood. “We have...” he grunted and Dean could see him bite his lip, suppressing the urge to say more.

“Come on. Give it up. Then I’ll end it for you. It’ll be over. Just tell us what we need to know. What did you have?” Dean growled the words, dipping down low to make them heard.

When the vampire said nothing more but whimpered, Dean sighed heavily and traced the blade along the back of the creature’s neck, pressing in enough to draw a thick line of blood to the surface. “Fuck. _Fuck_ , okay. The colt. We have the colt. He was - _god_ \- he was buying it from us.”

Dean finally glanced up, looking at Sam and mouthing the word _colt_. He had no idea what the hell it was or why their dad would be willing to paid twenty thousand to a handful of _vampires_ to get it. “Why did he want it? Tell me.” Dean growled and pressed the blade deeper into his neck.

“I don’t know.” The vampire groaned and shifted up. “But if a hunter wanted it – you’ve got to be crazy to think we’d give it to him.” The vampire twisted beneath him, inhaling sharply. “Just fucking _kill me_.”

Looking down at the vampire than back at his brother, Dean slid back. “Anything else?”

Sam was still reeling from the way his brother had run the knife across the vampire’s flesh. “Dean? Enough. Just kill him.” Shrugging, uncomfortable, Sam pushed up to stand and pressed his hand gently to his brother’s shoulder. He’d never seen Dean so merciless.

Dean _knew_ this was going to happen; he could see that look in his brother’s eyes. Disgust, maybe. Pushing up, Dean made quick work of sending the machete down through the vampire’s neck. When he was up on his feet he swayed for a moment, the weight of the moment and the wound on the back of his head combining to make him feel weak.

“Guess we better find that gun before we go. If it was worth dad paying for it it’s important.” Dean stepped back, laying his fingers as subtle as possible over the wound on the back of his neck to check how big it was. “Look Sam, that was- you know, just for, just to get the information.”

“What’s wrong with your head?” Sam ignored his brother’s excuse and stepped forward to run his fingers up his brother’s arm. “Jesus, Dean.” When he pulled his fingers back there was blood on them and Sam felt that nagging fear again; he wasn’t going to lose anyone else.

Tugging Dean toward a broken-down table against one wall Sam pushed him back till Dean had no choice but to sit down. “Let me look at it.” Shoving Dean’s shoulder roughly Sam parted his hair to see a nasty cut on his brother’s head. He pulled his t-shirt out of his jeans and tore a huge strip off the bottom of it and pressed it to the cut.

“It’s okay. It doesn’t hurt. Let’s find the gun and get out of here, Sam.” Dean pushed back against him slightly, not wanting to hurt Sam in any way. Not when he wasn’t sure about how his brother was reacting to what he’d just seen. “Come on Sam, it’s _fine_.”

“And the Colt’s not goin’ anywhere on its own, is it? So shut up and sit still so I can try and stop this blood.” Sam pressed the cloth hard enough against the wound to give his brother a little pain to think about.

Hissing slightly, Dean scrunched his face up and sighed heavily. “You pissed at me?”

“Not pissed,” Sam muttered. Pulling the cloth back a little he sighed. “Never seen you like that.” Sure Dean’s face had changed again, that dark look of anger and violence was gone. But still. It had been there, Sam had seen it and the way it had distorted his brother’s face had scared him. A year apart was a long time.

“I had to get the info, Sam. You do what you have to.” Dean frowned and scrubbed a hand down his face. “Didn’t want you to see me that way.” Which was true. He didn’t want Sam to think anything ill about him ever, not a single thing that could potentially send him away one day. “Is it deep?”

“No, not too bad. You should probably rest though. Sit here, keep pressure on it and I’ll find the stupid colt.” Sam was just about done with vampires. He’d be happy if he didn’t have to see any of them again, although he had a sneaking suspicion that he hadn’t seen the last of them.

Really, Dean didn’t have much of a choice but to let Sam go and explore for the colt. He felt... odd. Not sick, not in pain, but maybe a little like everything was off. He watched Sam’s back disappear around the corner and sighed, dropping his gaze back down to the ground.

Sam spent a good half an hour searching through the warehouse. The vampires didn't have a lot of gear with them, most of it had been back at their first nest and destroyed by the brothers. Flipping over every box, shaking out every random piece of cloth or tarp, Sam found nothing. He knew that Dean wanted to leave with the Colt though, and spent more time than he needed to going over the areas that he had already searched. Somehow, coming away without an answer seemed like the worst possible outcome. At least if Sam could have put the butt of that Colt in his brother's hand it would have been easier to feel like their father hadn't died for nothing.

Scuffing his boots on the floor Sam headed back over to the table and checked under the cloth that Dean was still holding to the back of his head. “I can’t find a fuckin’ thing,” Sam muttered.

“Shit, I was worried about that.” Dean groaned and shook his head. “They must have ditched it. _Fuck_.” Pushing up to his feet Dean swayed for just a moment before steadying himself. “We’ll find it some other way. Let’s just, go back to the motel now.” He looked over at Sam and frowned. “It’s okay. You tried.”

“I’m sorry, I know it was important.” Sam didn’t need to say why - they both knew. “You need to rest.” Sam grabbed Dean’s hand and pulled his brother’s arm over his shoulders and helped him toward the door.

“I’m okay.” Dean insisted quietly but slipped his arm around Sam’s middle. “We just have a new quest. Something to hunt for.” He sighed and leaned a little heavier into Sam’s side. “Don’t hate me now,” he whispered, tightening his arm around Sam’s middle.

“What the hell would I hate you for?” Sam turned his face to Dean’s hair as subtly as he could. “You and I - we’re just messed up in different ways. You’re angry. I get that. I just - I don’t want to see that look on your face.” It had scared Sam and Sam didn’t scare all that easily.

“No. You won’t. Never for you.” Dean leaned more against Sam and shifted to pull the keys from his pocket. “You drive. Tomorrow we’ll have to come and clean up this mess.” Another part of their life - never leave messes behind. Dean was pretty much done thinking for the moment though.

When Dean woke it was late afternoon and the bed beside him was empty. He blinked a few times to get the sleep from his eyes before rolling over and spotting Sam at the table, peering at the laptop. After another few moments he stood, crossing the room slowly and laying a hand on his brother’s back. “Anything?” he asked softly, sliding a hand up through Sam’s hair.

Slamming the screen down on his laptop Sam sighed and curled his fingers over the edge of the table. “It’s like lookin’ for a needle in a haystack. Almost five hundred miles of haystack. I mean, all I got is that there are like, four dealers in between here and Iowa. You know the kind of shits who might actually pay someone for something like that Colt. That’s it, though.” Frustrated, Sam dropped his hands to his thighs and rubbed them up and down.

Frowning slightly, Dean laid his hands on Sam’s shoulders and slowly started to massage. “Well, we’ve got money to offer, don’t we? It’ll get us a long way.” There were loads of other things Dean could think of to do with that money but somehow not getting the weapon their father had lost his life over wasn’t an option. It was too painful to think about, so Dean shook his head and tightened his grip, deepening the massage. “We can make a few calls.”

Sam groaned softly and rolled his head forward. “God that feels good. You never did _that_ before in all these years of hunting.” Sam laughed softly. He had a feeling he might spend a long time learning new things about his brother.

“Well you obviously need it. Come on.” Dean tugged his brother up by the arm and pulled him over to the bed, pushing him down and sliding across to straddle his ass, the heel of his palm rolling up the spine. “We’ll find the gun, Sam. Just like we’ll figure out why dad wants it. It’s what we do.” Fabric caught under Dean’s hands and he sat back slightly. “Shirt off.”

Struggling out of his shirt Sam smiled and tossed it back over his shoulder toward his brother. “So Dean Winchester, what else don’t I know about you? Glasses? Reading Poe, massages?” It was something to focus on other than the shit they’d been through in the past forty-eight hours.

“Don’t know. Maybe you’ll just have to find out as you go.” Dean chuckled softly and pushed Sam back down into the bed, working the heels of his hands in slow circles along his brother’s tense muscles. “They’re good changes though, yeah?” He’d not really considered them, it was just something that happened with time, but having Sam around reminded him that yeah, he had changed.

“Are they changes? Or were you always like this?” Sam grunted softly and tucked his hands under his chin. “Oh. ‘Cept the glasses, that’s kinda- well.” Sam settled down into the bed even though it was kind of hard to ignore the weight of Dean’s body on his _ass_.

“Kinda what?” Dean quirked an eyebrow, fingers in constant motion over the muscles and skin beneath him. “Maybe I’ve always been this way, but you just didn’t realize it.”

“Kinda hot,” Sam muttered. He twisted his hips slightly to relieve some of the pressure on his hardening cock. _Dean_ did that to him; just the weight of his brother, the way his hands were moving on Sam’s skin - like he was learning the landscape of Sam’s body.

“My glasses?” Dean’s touch hesitated for a moment before continuing, and he chuckled softly. “God, that doesn’t surprise me. You gonna jump me the next time you catch me reading a book?” Actually that didn’t sound so bad and it was more incentive to read, which he didn’t need but he’d take anyway.

“How are you _so_ okay with this?” The question had been sitting there in the back of Sam’s mind, scratching at him.

Frowning slightly, Dean considered the question as he worked Sam’s muscles under his fingers. “I don’t know. Maybe I’ve thought it too, without realizing it. Maybe I’ve wanted you just as much but never noticed. I just, it doesn’t freak me out. Because it’s you, because you want me too, and what I’ve felt so far has been pretty fucking amazing.” Dean finished with a shrug, smiling down at his brother’s back. “Would you rather I freak out?”

“No,” Sam answered quickly. A smile shaped his mouth and he turned his face down to the mattress. “I just. It’s strange you know? Wanting something for so long and then ... and then it’s right there and. I don’t know. It’s like there’s still this part of me that’s waiting for the catch, you know?”

“I think it had to wait, Sam.” Dean bent down, pressing a kiss to his spine. “I don’t think I would have acted the way I am if you’d told me before you left. Maybe I needed the year to mellow out, learn a little about myself. Maybe that’s all it took.” Dean continued to press little kisses along Sam’s skin, rolling his hips slowly against Sam’s denim-clad ass.

“May-be.” Sam’s breath caught as Dean’s fingers slid down his sides. The thrill of _Dean_ starting this, _wanting_ him, fired up his insides. His heart sped up and he found himself panting softly in between holding his breath. “Dean, promise me that this is what you want.”

“Wouldn’t feel like this if I didn’t want it.” Dean rocked his hips harder down against Sam to prove his point. “I want this. Want you.” He shifted up to sink his teeth just barely into his brother’s shoulder. “Gonna make you believe me.” Heat pulsed in him and Dean moaned softly, shifting his body almost constantly against Sam’s now.

Sam was a trembling mess. It hadn’t taken long for his body to come alive under his brother’s touches and now those words skittered down Sam’s body, leaving goose flesh in their wake. He could feel how hard his brother was, feel the hard line in the front of his jeans. Not bothering to resist anymore, Sam pushed his ass up against that stiff line, circling his hips.

“Yeah Sammy, you want me too?” Dean moaned as he spread out across Sam, gently thrusting his hips down against his brother’s body. He was too hard, too turned on to resist the constant grind against Sam. “Want me to fuck you Sam? God, I can just imagine how tight you are, what it’d feel like being in you.”

“Jesus, Dean,” Sam hissed. As if he wasn’t already so turned on he could hardly breathe. “Yes-” Sam’s voice broke and he groaned softly and turned his head to the side, closer to those lips beside his ear. Dean’s breath painted warm moisture on Sam’s neck and he couldn’t help pushing up again. His hips wouldn’t still. “Yes,” he murmured again.

Dropping to the side next to Sam, Dean shoved at his brother until he was rolling over, blinking up at Dean with dark eyes. A small smirk tugged at Dean’s lips as he pulled his shirt off, sending it across the room to join his brother’s on the floor. “You ever...?” He pressed into Sam’s side, laying a hand on his middle and trailing slowly down to waistline, tugging at the button, pulling on the zipper. Want pulsed thick and heady through him and the sudden priority of getting Sam naked was enough to have his shoulders shaking.

Moaning, Sam lifted his hips so Dean could shove his jeans down. “No, never. Not that.” He licked his lips and rolled to wriggle out of his jeans. “Other things,” he murmured. Angling his head, Sam pushed forward into Dean’s body and caught his bottom lip in a kiss.

“Mm,” Dean hummed, dipping into the kiss. He thought about asking what other things but decided he’d wait for that. Right now he just wanted to touch every inch of him. They tousled for a moment, Sam rolling on top of Dean, Dean pushing back to roll over him a moment later. At some point Dean lost the rest of his clothing and he pressed Sam hard down into the mattress, capturing his hands and pinning him down onto the bed. “Why not?” he asked, slightly breathless, dipping down to suck beneath Sam’s jaw.

“What?” Panting and harder than hell, Sam rubbed at his eye and blinked a few times. All he could hear was his heart beat, and his hand slid up through his brother’s hair to press that mouth harder against his neck. No one kissed like Dean; the way he used his mouth, _fuck_.

“Why haven’t you been fucked before?” Dean murmured against his neck, sliding up and to the side to reach the nightstand. He was relieved he’d already thought to put supplies in the drawer and he hesitated before grabbing just the bottle of lube, leaving the condom for now. Sliding back over Sam’s body he gazed down at him, smiling softly. “You look good like this. Really good.”

“Why?” Sam was so quickly reduced to one word answers when he was staring up at his brother. Dean’s hair was all messed up, his cheeks flushed and his lips glistening. “‘Cause-” Sam moaned and rocked his hips up against his brother’s for the hot slide of their cocks. “Wasn’t you.”

For some reason that sent a sharp thrill through Dean and he slowly smirked, liking the idea that Sam had waited for him. “Good,” Dean murmured and began kissing a trail down Sam’s body once more. He loved how Sam curved up to meet his lips, like he wanted Dean to kiss him everywhere. His teeth grazed along hipbones as he settled into the V of his brother’s spread legs, stroking slowly along his cock, thumb sliding along the slit and smearing the small drop of precome.

Sam’s body kept twisting, writhing to get more contact with his brother’s skin. He was murmuring his brother’s name and shifting further down to try and keep Dean over him. “Dean - are you gonna-”

“Am I gonna what?” Dean murmured, sliding his hand down beneath him to spread along Sam’s thigh, trailing up to graze the back of his fingers over his brother’s balls. He pulled back a little, watching his hands move, before gripping Sam’s cock tight and leaning down to lick over the head. Smooth silky flesh rolled under his tongue and he moaned low in his throat.

The sensation of Dean's tongue sent a shot of heat through Sam's entire body. He jolted up off the bed, shoulders rolling forward. " _Fuck_ ," he moaned. Letting his head thump back down onto the bed Sam arched his long back up off the mattress and sought out more of his brother's wet tongue. "Fuck me," he hissed, "are you gonna?"

Sucking the head between his lips, Dean hollowed his cheeks and pulled hard flesh further in as his fingers dipped down from Sam’s balls and rubbed lower. “Yeah Sammy,” he murmured as he released his brother’s cock with a pop of his lips. “M’gonna fuck you. You want that?” He looked up at his brother, stroking slowly over his skin and reaching with his free hand out for the bottle of lube.

“Yes, _God_ , I said yes, please.” Sam’s words all came out in one rush of breath and he groaned and shifted restlessly. “Just, _fuck_ \- Dean.” Sam’s heart was racing and he found himself wondering if he would just pass out or have a stroke or something. It would be worth it. _Years_.

Reaching down Sam clawed his nails down his brother’s shoulder and stared bleary-eyed as Dean worked to open the bottle of lube.

“Jesus Sam, you always this eager?” Dean smirked up at him as he slicked his fingers, using his elbow to push his brother’s legs further apart. Before Sam could answer Dean’s lips parted and he sank down over Sam’s cock once more, drawing in the salty flavor. Hand settling under him, Dean curled his fingers and gently rubbed along his brother’s entrance, teasing the puckered skin before slipping his finger just barely inside, pulling out and pressing in deeper. Muscles constricted around him and Dean moaned, hollowing his cheeks so the vibration would work along his brother’s overstimulated skin.

"Oh _god_." The worst part of Sam's life had been thinking that Dean would never touch him like this, never _want_ him and here he was sliding hot and smooth over Sam's body. It made Sam a little insane and a lot turned on and harder than he'd ever imagined was possible. His hips thrust gently up into the heat of his brother's wet mouth and he cried out. Still having enough sense to be embarrassed by his reaction he rolled his head to the side and buried his face in his arm.

Pulling up slightly, Dean glanced up at his brother and smiled, staring at the red tainted skin. “Don’t hide. It’s me Sam. I’m the one person you can show this to.” Dean stroked almost idly along Sam’s cock as he gently thrust his finger all the way in, riding back the arch of Sam’s body. “God, and you’re so fuckin’ gorgeous all flushed like this. I want to see it all.” His thumb swept along the vein in Sam’s cock, pushing down for friction.

Sam was sure he made some kind of sound, sucked in a breath and rolled his hips up but his entire being was focused on Dean's voice. His brother's words fell over him, thick and hot and even as Sam felt his ass clench tight around Dean's finger he wanted more. "More Dean-" Sam's breath caught somewhere in his chest and he rocked up harder then sank back down, pushing hard against his brother's hand. “Not gonna break,” he whispered.

“Fuck.” Dean hadn’t anticipated how hot it would be to have Sam writhing like this, pushing down onto his finger like it was the best thing imaginable. He shifted back to watch as he added a second finger to the mix, shoving them hard up and spreading apart to watch the way Sam’s body curled under the touch. That was even more hot and this entire situation was going to blow his mind. Fingers still loosely curled around Sam’s cock, Dean began a slow thrust with his hand, spreading Sam wider with each pass.

There was a quiver in Sam’s thighs and an ache in his balls that almost matched the intensity of the burn in his ass. He could feel the pinch of pain as Dean sank another finger deep inside him and then it all disappeared into pleasure. So quickly and not fast enough. Sam shuddered with each stroke of his brother’s hand on his cock - each slide of Dean’s flesh sent shivers rushing up Sam’s body.

Sam was falling apart at Dean’s touch and Dean wanted to drink in every moment of it. He stared down at his brother with heavy, lust laced eyes, swallowing down the next thick burst of arousal through him. “God I want you,” he groaned low in his throat and pulled his fingers free, reaching out for the bottle of lube once more and fumbling to get it open. He’d never wanted to take someone so very much, it was flaring through him to the point it was almost painful.

Hooking Sam’s legs up over his shoulder, Dean shifted forward, gripping himself at the base and sliding close. “Ready?” he murmured, nearly bending Sam in half to dip down and brush their lips together.

“Fuck yes I’m ready.” Sam’s voice was thick and rough and his hands made their way to his brother’s ass and he tugged, nails digging in slightly. “Please,” he whispered. _Years_. Breathing was difficult the way his body was folded but Sam didn’t care; he wanted his brother.

“God yes.” Dean growled and pushed himself forward, closing his eyes when the tight muscles split around him, pulling him in. He could feel Sam’s breath catching beneath him, the shudder of his body as he sank lower and pushed down into him. “ _Sam_ , fuck.” He gasped softly, the heat almost too much for him to handle and not nearly enough.

 _It hurt._ Sam hissed softly and clawed hard at his brother's ass to pull him deeper. Struggling to move his hips, Sam could only shift them slightly so instead he clenched his ass tighter around his brother's cock. The heat of it made it feel like Sam was being ripped apart and his dick throbbed hard between their bodies.

When Dean felt Sam all around him, cock buried deep within him, chests nearly pressing together, Dean felt complete in a way he couldn’t have anticipated. Nothing had ever been so hot or tight around him, Sam’s muscles clenching tight and holding him in place. Arms slipping under Sam’s shoulders, Dean curled his fingers around his brother and gripped tight. Lips resting against Sam’s, they shared breaths and Dean forced himself not to move so Sam could have time to adjust. “God you’re tight,” he groaned softly, deepening the kiss for a moment.

Thrusting his tongue forward into his brother's mouth Sam keened softly and sucked in air through his nose. The intensity of being so full, so close to his brother made Sam just close his eyes and melt into the kiss. _Dean_. His brother was fucking him and Sam's heart was going to explode. His tongue tangled wet and slick with Dean's, withdrawing slightly then thrusting back in. Tearing his lips away, Sam growled softly. "Move, fuck me."

Sucking in a sharp breath Dean curled his fingers around Sam’s legs and pulled back, withdrawing completely from him and slamming hard back in. He felt the ripple of pleasure shoot through Sam, watched the way he curved up to meet the thrust and moaned so loudly. Eyes fixed down on his brother, Dean’s pace instantly picked up speed, hips snapping without mercy hard and fast, wanting to claim his brother as _his_. “Fuck,” he grunted, voice deep and hoarse with each harder and deeper thrust.

Every bruising thrust sent Sam a little closer to the edge. There was no way he could stop moaning, murmuring Dean's name in between the breaths of air he tried desperately to suck in. The burn had faded away completely and all Sam could feel was pleasure. Dean shifted slightly, angling his hips differently and when his cock pounded back in to Sam's ass the world blew apart. Sam's vision faded away to almost nothing and wave after wave of intense pleasure shuddered through Sam's body. Clinging to his brother he moaned again and again, gasping in air and finally managing to recover enough to blink his eyes open and gaze up at Dean.

Dean fucked Sam hard because he knew his brother could take it, he could take and claim him in a way he’d never be able to have another. Something possessive rolled up in Dean and his hand slid down between them, curling to work quick strokes of Sam’s cock that matched the brutal pace of his snapping hips. He wanted Sam to fall apart because of him, and he was already so close to his own release that his pace skipped, fell out of rhythm before catching up once more. Muscles tightened a vice hold around him and Dean groaned out his brother’s name, closing his eyes when sweat dripped down from his brow. Beneath them the bed creaked, Dean thrusts becoming shallow, longer, aiming over and over for that spot in Sam to push him over the edge.

Getting breath into his lungs was impossible and Sam cried out as Dean's cock slammed into him again and again. All the pleasure that was running through him was pulling the world out from under him; Sam was sure he was just existing somewhere - only with Dean. Dean and the pleasure that was slamming into him. His brother's fingers swiped along the heat of Sam's cock and he could feel himself losing control. Lurching forward, Sam's spine arched back and he could feel his body clenching _so_ fucking tight around his brother's dick. His balls hurt; a throb centered deep in his body sent shock waves out and Sam came. Hot come pulsed out of his cock and splattered up his belly and chest.

The clench around his cock intensified and Dean could barely move, only managed a few more short thrusts before he was tumbling after Sam. His orgasm burned hot and bright in him and he could feel it slick inside his brother, making him shudder at the heat. For a moment he simply stayed there, gently rocking his hips forward before collapsing onto his brother’s chest, still panting heavily. “Fuck,” he grunted, half chuckling because he was pretty sure that word made up half his vocabulary for however long he’d been fucking his brother. _Fucking his brother._ Holy shit.

Sam’s arms barely had the strength to move around Dean’s shoulders but he managed. Mouthing his way lazy and wet along his brother’s cheek he dragged his lips down to lick Dean’s mouth open. This was where he belonged - right here - fucked open and willing, loving, needing and lying there with his brother. It might be _wrong_ or all kinds of messed up but it was what made it easier to breathe.

Eventually, Dean pulled back, groaning as he fell to Sam’s side, still half sprawled over him. His lips felt kiss-swollen, his heart was just barely calming, and his body felt loose and spent. It was as close to perfect as he could imagine. “That- we shouldn’t have waited.” He chuckled softly and rubbed his nose along Sam’s shoulder, sighing softly.

Laughing quietly, Sam curled his arm up to wrap over Dean’s head. “Was too stupid before. Didn’t know what to say,” Sam murmured into his brother’s hair. He may never tell Dean but the smell of his hair, the slight scent of sweat and body heat - it sent him spiraling back to his youth, to all those times he had wanted Dean so much. “God, Dean,” he whispered and buried his face in his brother’s sweat-damp hair.

“I know.” This whole thing was pretty damn huge and impossible to ignore. They’d just shared something, being closer than two people could ever get, and no matter what happened now this would always be between them. “S’good,” he murmured, pressing a hard kiss to Sam’s shoulder.

“Not freakin’ out?” Sam shifted slightly and curled his hand over Dean’s leg to pull it a little higher.

“Nah. Too fucked out to freak out.” Dean smirked against Sam’s skin, squeezing his middle. “You freakin’ out?

Sam shook his head slowly. “Well.” Laughing softly he kissed Dean’s temple. “Freaked out over how good that was. That was - I could- wow.” Sam’s entire body felt like someone had stolen his bones and replaced them with Jell-o.

“Like I’m not a sex god.” Dean grunted, smirk on his lips. “Just the first time. Wait until I’ve got my energy back. M’gonna blow your mind, Sammy.” He stretched on the bed, groaning with the pull of his muscles. “Gonna make you work harder next time, too.”

Sam followed his brother’s body. He didn’t want to stop touching Dean; his hand slid over the sheen of sweat on the man’s chest. “I’ll do whatever you want.” Sam gazed up at Dean, eyes heavy with fatigue.

“Oh? Whatever I want?” Dean’s eyebrows lifted and he tugged Sam into him, falling onto his back and holding him close. “When I can feel my legs, I’m takin’ you up on that.”

Smiling, Sam dropped his head to Dean’s chest and listened to the man’s heartbeat. He would take anything he could get. “Dean? We gotta talk about somethin’.” Sam sighed and turned his head so he could look up at Dean’s face. “I’m not goin’ back to school.”

“Kinda guessed.” Dean said quietly, stroking a hand through Sam’s hair and dipping down to meet his gaze. “Did you go in the first place because of me?” His thumb slid down to trace the curve of Sam’s jaw, pulling at his lower lip.

"Yeah," Sam murmured. "I thought that if I was away- _God_ , it was stupid. The whole thing was just making me crazy. Seeing you all the time, being near you, I mean - I'm sure you can imagine. Or can't." Sam could feel the flush returning to his cheeks, this time _not_ because he was turned on.

“I can imagine wanting someone and having to be with them each day but not having them.” Dean had read enough books now to be able to picture it. He wanted to make it up to Sam. “So. Our future then. We look for the Colt? And you’ll hunt with me? We’ll be even. I’ll trust you as my partner and equal, sound fair?”

Sam raised his eyebrows. “You got it all figured out huh?”

“Pretty simple, really.” Dean half shrugged, tracing Sam’s lip with his thumb. “Not what you want?”

“It’s what I want. Well, what I _want_ is to be with you. I think we _need_ to get the Colt.” Sam took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

They were quiet for a few minutes then Sam laughed softly. “You’ll never stop treating me like your little brother.”

“Fair enough.” Dean nodded slowly, smiling softly. “But, only in some ways. You know, you can tell me when I’m being a douche and I’ll only partially kick your ass.” Dean ran the back of his fingers over Sam’s cheek and sighed. “We’ll find the Colt. Then we’ll figure out what dad needed it for. And go from there?” He liked the idea of their lives being spread out like that, Sam at his side, one bed instead of two. Weird the little things he could appreciate.

“I want to drive more.”

“I want to fuck you whenever I want,” Dean shot back, dropping his hand and shifting down into the blanket.

“Not like I’m gonna play hard-to-get,” Sam growled softly. “Maybe I should have my own car key.”

Rolling his eyes Dean snorted soft and shrugged. “Sure Sam, you can have your own car key. Any other rules I have to play by?”

“No one else. Just you and me. You want somethin’ else I’m outta here. Can’t share you.” Sam leaned up a little and half-smiled at his brother.

“Wouldn’t do that Sam.” Dean returned his brother’s smile and pulled him up so their lips could brush together. “And I know it’s not my usual but we gotta talk okay? No hiding shit okay?”

Sam smirked. “I hate talking.” He _loved_ talking to Dean. Now that things were out in the open he felt like a weight had been lifted off his chest.

“Bull shit, you’re like a fuckin’ Dr. Phil.” Dean blinked then met Sam’s gaze. “Not that I watch Dr. Phil. More of an Oprah fan, myself.” He smirked slightly, pulling him up closer to his body. “So we all good then?”

“You watch Oprah?” Sam’s expression changed to one of surprise.

“Guess you’ll just have to wait and see.” Dean met Sam’s gaze unflinching, somehow managing to keep the smile off his lips.

“Dude,” Sam slapped at his brother’s chest and laughed. “No more daytime TV for you. Gonna have to work on that.”

“I read,” Dean insisted and slapped Sam back, laughing in return. “Year alone Sammy, had to entertain myself somehow.” He sighed after a moment then flicked Sam’s forehead with his finger. “Sleep bitch, gonna need your energy later.”

“Why you always gotta be a jerk?” But Sam was grinning. He made a point of settling _on_ Dean and closing his eyes.

“You love me anyway.” Dean closed his eyes and settled back into the bed. “It’s okay. Love you too.”

Kissing his brother’s chest, Sam was pretty sure he might fall asleep with a smile on his face.


End file.
